


Belize

by Chips2



Category: Animal Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Best Friends, California, Family Drama, Heist, M/M, POV First Person, Summer Vacation, Surfing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:49:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 54,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24605713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chips2/pseuds/Chips2
Summary: When his best friend, Adrian reveals a secret about himself, Deran’s reaction is less than ideal. Their friendship is changed forever and Deran is left confused and and trying to figure out what he wants out of life.  This takes him on a real and inner journey that involves family, friendships and his own brand of love.Set 2-3 years before Season 1 of Animal kingdom.Explicit in future Chapters
Relationships: Deran Cody/Adrian Dolan
Comments: 66
Kudos: 115
Collections: Animal Kingdom ▶ Deran Cody / Adrian Dolan





	1. Walkie-Talkies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deran’s POV.

I’m a little drunk. No. Scrap that. I am very drunk. Too many beers and a little too much weed. Once Adrian turned up with an unwelcome surprise in tow, I knew I’d have to get numb to get through the night. We’re at Smurf’s place and the party is in full swing. He’s standing on the opposite side of the pool with some of our friends- a mix of guys and girls who are bonded by a love of surf. 

Despite a house full of other people and my posse fully represented tonight, I have spent most of my night with my brothers, especially Craig, since he’s the birthday boy. And Monique. She’s a friend of one of Craig’s past hook ups. I got talking to her at a bar a few weeks ago. Total coke-head. Since then she’s been trying it on with me, but I haven’t been interested. I’m still not but when Adrian showed up with a guy I knew I could use her. 

I told Adrian about the party last week. He was working at Tao’s surfboard repair shop, _Real Surf,_ when I went over there to collect rent for Smurf. On my way out I saw him in one of the workrooms. My feet took me to him, so I peered into his room.

“Hey.”

He looked shocked to see me. “Hey.”

“I’m throwing Craig a keg party next Saturday.”

“His birthday?”

“Yeah. 27 years old.”

He said, “Shit. Time flies,” when what I wanted him to say was, ‘Sound’s good. I’ll come’. 

“You want to come?”

“You sure?” Adrian seemed uncertain. “I didn’t think you were talking to me anymore. We haven’t talked since-” 

“I’m talking now, aren’t I?” I swallowed and confessed. “I want you to come.”

“Yeah?” He smiled in surprise. “Okay, sure. I’ll be there.” 

He was still smiling when I left. It felt good seeing that. Made me feel happy. 

As I drove home I had visions of us hanging out at the party, by the pool, while people got shit-faced around us. Sharing a spliff. Talking shit. Just being cool with each other; simple, easy, straight forward. Close like family. I imagined us being like we were before he confessed who he was to me a couple of months ago. After telling me his secret, our friendship changed. It got complicated in my mind. 

He told me on an evening at the Strand after we’d spent the day together. Me and my best bud. Earlier we’d caught monster waves in San Onofre. Adrian floated then hacked a fat one at The Point. He’s getting better than me; good enough to go pro if he wanted to. Anyway, adrenalin was high by the end of the day so we were mellowing out with some beers and a blunt on the Strand. We had sand in our half wet hair, sea salt on our skin and we were watching the sun go down. Perfect. 

Then talk got serious. He was speaking in riddles. Saying something about how he told his family something about himself and it was intense but it was done. And that he also told a couple of our friends and he felt good about that. He said that they had encouraged him to tell me but that he was scared to because he cared about how I was going to take it.

It fucked me up to think that he felt he couldn’t tell me something, so I told him, ‘Tell me.’

He stayed quiet.

‘You’re making me nervous, man. Just say it.’ I remember saying between hits on the blunt.

He blurted it out. 

‘I’m gay.’

Just like that.

I froze… for a long time. Too long maybe.

‘Aren’t you going to say anything?’ He asked eventually.

I didn’t know what to say. I was taking it in. Processing. Thinking. I have known him since we were six. Sixteen years. I was going over who Adrian was in my head. Trying to see the guy I knew through this new lens. It started to make sense; like a picture beginning to emerge as pieces are added to the puzzle or a lens settling into focus. I understood who he was and who I was and what he was to me. I was experiencing the beginnings of a revelation but not all revelations bring euphoria. This one was too intense, too game changing. Frightening. 

What he said changed things.

‘Not sure what I’m supposed to say.’ I told him. I crushed out the rest of the joint into the sand and dug the heels of my hand into my eyes, trying to focus through the blur of my high.

His voice was soft, by my side. ‘It’s okay. I got it. Loud and clear.’

I felt him stand and walk away.

I didn’t stop him.

We continued to hang out after that but never alone. Our posse is large enough for us to disappear into opposite corners without speaking to each other. Our friends probably haven’t even noticed that I have stopped mentioning him. That he has stopped calling me. That I have stopped texting him. And recently, it’s been too much to be around him and not interact with him so I’ve been making excuses to bail out of parties and surf days and what not. It’s gotten too awkward and soul destroying to be with him without acknowledging him.

I have drifted apart from my best bud.

My invitation to Craig’s birthday is an olive branch. 

It was meant to say, ‘I’m sorry’ and 'I’d like us to stay friends’.

I didn’t factor on him bringing a someone else. 

Who is this chisel-jawed guy with him, anyway? And where did they meet? And what’s going on with them? Is it casual? Are they together? When did that happen? Chisel Jaw is toned and tanned with better tattoos than mine. He’s taller too and from what I have seen tonight, he isn’t as volatile as I am. He’s one of those peace and love and namaste people. 

When they arrived, I clocked him massaging his hand slowly through Adrian’s hair and back of his neck like he owned my friend’s skin. And Adrian was introducing him to OUR friends like he meant something. That messed me up. So I did what I felt I had to do. I started giving Monique just enough attention to make her think I was interested. Meanwhile I fantasised snapping each one of Chisel Jaw’s digits so he couldn’t touch Adrian again.

Through the night Monique has been like a leech; climbing onto me on a deck chair and drunkenly making out with me with wet, open, insistent lips. Hugging me possessively with all the insecurity of a woman who hasn’t been loved enough in her life. I take advantage of that. I laugh with her. I display affection towards her.  
I keep looking over at Adrian to check if he’s seeing. I want him to see that I am having a great time even if it’s not with him.

My heart stutters when we make eye contact across the pool. He’s got my complete attention. Head to toe. All of it. He’s wearing an old faded vest, overused board shorts and flip flops. Standard Adrian get up- no fuss, no frill- but it looks so damn good on him. He’s got a new haircut too. Fresh crew cut. First time he’s had his hair this short since we were kids. It suits him. 

While I study him, Monique’s lips are an unwelcome invasion on my neck. Her hands feel super clingy. Something about Adrian’s gaze feels too much so I turn away from him and pull Mon into a deep kiss. I make a show of it. Dig my hands into the flesh of her butt as if I crave her.

“Get a room, guys!” Craig shouts from the deck chair next to us.

I flip him the finger.

“Wait.” I pull away when I sense Mon is getting too into it. “I gotta go to piss.” 

I gently push her off the deckchair and stand up. My feet feel dizzy. When I look back towards Adrian his back’s turned away and he’s back to paying attention to Chisel Jaw; closely listening to whatever bullshit he’s saying. 

I head into the house and use the bathroom just past Smurf’s bedroom. My reflection in the mirror shows me what I thought I had managed to hide. Anger. Fear. Disappointment. Hurt.

I splash my face with cold water, slap my cheeks, and look at myself again. This time I see my mother. We have obvious things in common. Blond hair. Blue eyes. Round faces and high cheek bones. But I know that our similarities run deeper than that. We are both fiercely loyal. Possessive. Aggressive. Manipulative. We hate showing vulnerability. It’s a horrible combination. I have inherited everything bad about her character. So does that mean I am destined to be as heartless, ruthless and lonely as she is? 

I get back out, poolside, and ignore Monique when she waves me over to her. I look over at where my friends are, for Adrian. He isn’t there any more so I scan the garden and the pool.

“Yo, where’s Adrian?” I slur at my friends as I approach them. The guy he came with isn’t here either. “And who’s the guy he’s with anyway?” 

They all look at me cagily.

“Brad.” Ox drunkenly drapes an arm over my shoulders. “Works at the skateboard shop on Mission. The one near the Starbucks.” 

“Brad?” I smirk.

“Yeah.” Moss points to the gates at the front. “But you’ve just missed them. They left.”

That feels like a punch to the gut but I can’t let that show. “Oh.”

Anger and pain build in the pit of my stomach.

“You could have come over earlier.” Colby throws me a challenging look. “They were here for like a solid two hours.”

I make up an excuse. Something plausible. “It’s my brother’s birthday, man. I wasn’t going to abandon him.”

“Craig’s been tripping over pussy, family and friends all night. He didn’t need you to babysit him. You could have come to say hi-”

“I said hi to you.” I say defensively. What the fuck is Colby’s problem tonight?

“Yes. You said hi to us.” He indicates those around us. “The minute you saw Ade you backed the fuck away for the rest of the night.”

“I thought it was cool that he introduced us, you know, to a dude, no?” Ox smiles, cutting in. He’s higher than kite. “Brad’s super chill, too. And he’s gone pro this year. Adrian was saying that he's sponsored up. Vans for shoes. Thunder for trucks. Plan B for decks.”

“He’s a pro-skater?” 

For some reason, the fact that he isn’t some loser working a basic pay job, like half the people we hang out with, messes with my brain further.

“What’s your problem, man?” Colby shakes his head as he stares at me. He’s bent out of shape about something.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what, dude, I wasn’t going to say anything but…” He shakes his head again. He looks pissed.

“Say it. Sounds like you’ve got something up your ass.” I feel anger bubbling in anticipation.

“I’m done with your homophobic shit!”

What? Colby thinks I’m homophobic? 

“Todd’s gay, you have a problem with him?” Todd’s Colby’s older brother who lives in LA with his rich celebrity fitness coach boyfriend. 

“No.” I’ve known Todd and Colby forever. Never had a problem with his brother.

“So it’s just Adrian you have a problem with?”

“Who says I’ve got a problem with Adrian?”

“Your face. The way you were looking at him and Brad all evening. The way you’ve been with him ever since he came out. You don’t talk to him. I’m not the only one who’s noticed, right? Is no one else going to say anything?”

He turns to our friends in the hope of getting back up. They are all looking at me like I’m Satan. 

None of them have a clue what thoughts I’ve been having, what battles I’ve been fighting long before Adrian came out to me. I have been confused and questioning for a while but I ignored and suppressed it. So when Adrian came out to me he became my catalyst. He doesn’t know this, but I started facing my feelings, accepting what they meant about me. 

It terrifies me. I feel trapped by that knowledge. Alone, because I can’t ever tell anyone. I can’t do anything about it or act on it. I can’t free myself from my secret the way Adrian did. For me things won’t get better if I do. 

So I’ve bottled it all up. My friends don’t have a clue.

“Honestly. It doesn’t look good, man.” Moss says hesitantly. “You’ve been a major dick to him recently. It’s not great optics; you not talking to the only gay dude in our friend group after he comes out to you.” 

A heavy hand falls on my shoulder. Pope.

“We’re doing the birthday cake in a minute. Where’d you put the candles?” He stares at me with his intense unblinking eyes.

I stare back at him like a deer in headlights, so he repeats, “Candles, man.”

I clear my throat. “I’ll get them.”

Perfect timing. I was under ambush which means that in a second, I was going to go in with my fists against my friends. 

Instead of fighting, I head towards the house. 

Ox calls out behind me. “Hey! Like maybe if you just started talking to him like you used to, he’d feel like you don’t hate him for it, you know.”

I stick my finger up to all of them without turning back to look at their reaction.

+

“What the fuck was that about?”

I nearly jump out of my skin.

It’s Pope again, on the other side of the kitchen island, watching while I carefully place 27 candles on Craig’s birthday cake in the kitchen.

“Shit! Can you make a noise or something when you walk into a room!”

“You fallen out with Adrian?”

“No. It’s just a misunderstanding.”

“How so?”

I slam my open palms into the table and sigh to catch my anger. “It’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t look like nothing.”

My brother doesn’t leave, just stands there. Two can play that game. I continue laying out the candles on the cake in silence.

He breaks first. “Remember those walkie-talkies Smurf got you for your eighth birthday?”

I don’t look up. “Yeah. Why?”

“You loved them. You ran to Adrian’s place immediately and gave him one. You’d be laying by the pool or sat in your room, talking to yourself, until I realised that you were talking to him on that thing. Then one day, Smurf, called you. She wanted to teach you how to hotwire a car or some shit. You locked yourself in your bedroom with that walkie-talkie and carried on with Adrian.”

I remember.

“She was furious.” Pope smirks. “You got home from school like the next day and it was broken to bits and in the bin.”

I stop with the candles and look at him. 

“I’ve never seen you cry like that, dude.” Pope continues. “Smurf told you it was an accident while she was cleaning your room, but she didn’t break it. I did. She told me to. Said you were getting too attached to it and it would build your character. Said it was a good thing.”

“You did it?”

“Yeah.” Pope nods. “That’s what Smurf does. Manipulates us to get us to do what she wants. Either directly or indirectly. That’s how she teaches us to be who she wants us to be. She wanted to teach us both a lesson that day. But she doesn’t care about our happiness so don’t chase her approval, man. You’ll be burned. 

“I couldn’t believe how devastated you were. I felt shit. That’s why I got you that other set of talkies.” He wraps on the table with his knuckles. That’s how he punctuates an important point he’s about to make so I pay attention. “Because there is nothing wrong with walkie-talkies. I got that they were like an escape for you or something. I got how much they made you happy. And that’s a good thing. You deserve to be happy.”

I blink and firm up my jaw to hold back on getting emotional. I can’t show him how much I needed to hear those words.

I place the final candles on the cake and light them up.

I start to pick it up, but Pope pushes me aside. “Let me. You can barely walk straight.”

I smile. “Thanks.”

+

Me and my brothers, except Baz, have crashed at Smurf’s place after the party. We’re too high, drunk, tired or a combination of the three to drive to our own places. My head spins as I lie down in my childhood bedroom. Pope’s story earlier reminds me of the many late nights when I’d whisper into a palm sized device in my hand to my friend who live a few yards away. 

I pick up my phone and go to Adrian’s number. Two months. That’s the longest we haven’t properly spoken to each other.

I bite the bullet and ring him. He answers just before it kicks into voicemail.

“Hi.” He sounds sleepy.

I check the clock. It’s 5 am.

“Hi.”

“What do you want?” He’s defensive and I get that. I deserve it.

“Um, I was just thinking about how we used walkie talkies to talk like this when we were kids.”

He sighs. “It’s 5 am. That’s why you called?”

“No. I can’t sleep.” My chest feels tight, caged in. “I am sorry I didn’t get round to say ‘hi’ to you tonight.”

“Right.”

“You looked busy…” I can’t stop adding, “… with your new friend.”

Silence.

“I'm not having this conversation." He whispers. " I’m going back to bed.” 

“No! Don’t hang up!” I sigh. I'm jealous, not hateful. Doesn't he get that? “Let’s hang out. You and me. Please. Like old times.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why?”

“Because you’ve made it clear how you feel about me.”

“What do you think I feel about you?”

He scoffs. 

“I don’t have a problem with you being gay.” I blurt out. 

His laugh is dry, unbelieving.

“I don’t.” I insist. “Let me prove it to you. Let’s go catch some waves together.”

“When?”

“Today.”

“We’ve barely slept.” 

“We?”

“You and me.”

“Oh.” I am relieved although I still get a picture of him with Brad, cozied up on his fold-out bed.

“Okay. I’ll come.”

I feel elated. So unbelievably happy. “Great. I’ll pick you up.”


	2. Just a Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrian's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those reading this. Please feel free to leave comments!

“Yeah. That’s what I said. He’s picking me up soon.” I repeat, speaking into my phone as I trap it between my ear and shoulder. I finish packing up for my day out, stuff my water bottle into my backpack and zip it up.

“Have you even slept?” Jessica is not happy. “Why are you doing this, Ade? After how he’s been to you, you should have told him where to go.”

I can picture my sister, worried and pacing at the other end of the line, owning my problems as if they are her own.

I know that I should have said no to hanging out with Deran but I couldn’t. And anyway, I am sure this will be a quick early morning surf session. He’ll realise that he’s still either too drunk or too hungover and call it a day. After all he only called me just over an hour ago, and he should be here any minute now. He’ll have had almost no sleep since the party. 

“I’m only going so I can tell him that I’m done.” I say to reassure my sister and to remind myself of what I ought to do. 

“Good. Friends don’t act like he did.” There is a knock on my door. My sister must have bat ears because she goes, “Is that him?”

I flip my backpack onto my back, walk out of my bedroom and cross the living room towards the front door, glancing through the mesh covered glass portion of the main door. I make out familiar long blond hair, partly covered by a flipped-backwards baseball cap, an open plaid shirt and sunglasses. 

“Yeah. Gotta go.”

“Wait. Before you do…”

“Yep.”

“I’m glad that you’re finally cutting ties with him. He’s a Cody. They’re born dangerous.”

I try to convince myself that she’s right, but I can’t help remembering that until 2 months ago, Deran has been one of the best things in my life. A constant source of fun and laughter and support since we were little kids. 

“Like I said, I’ve moved on.”

“Moved on? Like…?” She is excited by that news. “Really? With a guy?”

“No.”

“Someone I know?”

I sigh impatiently. “That’s not what I meant. I’m going, sis. Talk to you later.”

Deran looks surprised when I open the door, as though he did not expect me to.

“Hi.” 

He takes his sunglasses off. He’s probably twice as hungover as I am, if the amount he had to drink last night is anything to go by.

He looks wrecked. Those blue eyes of his are tired. He scratches at his right arm nervously and brings attention to a two-inch cut on the inner aspect of it. It’s healing, crudely sewn up, red and raised along its length. He didn’t get it fixed in a hospital, that much I know.

“Did you get that last night?” I ask.

I stopped asking him about his unexplained cuts and bruises years ago because his answers were always super vague, but can’t help myself today. 

“No. A few nights ago.”

“Oh.”

His stare is unsure. So not like him. We have never been this awkward around each other, this weird about how to speak to each other.

“You know what. Maybe we should rain check.” I say. “I’m tired and you probably haven’t slept.”

“No. I, uh, I brought us a fix for that.” He lifts the two take out mugs in his hands. “Coffee. And I’ve got tonnes of water in the car.” He shoves a mug in my hand. “Here. It’s that soya sugar-free shit you like.”

I can’t help but smile. “Thanks.”

He looks behind me then back at me. “Is, uh, is everyone still asleep in there?”

“It’s just Dave and he’s probably not going to surface until noon.”

Dave’s my roommate.

“Oh.” He seems relieved by that for some reason.

That’s as much as we say to each other before we silently make our way to his parked SUV and drive towards Trestles. 

He’s fidgety; changing his grip on the wheel constantly, adjusting his cap, clearing his throat as though he’s about to speak only to stay silent. I reach to turn the music on in the Stout to cut through the quiet. 

Deran has a large selection of obscure, eclectic tunes from local bands burned into bootleg CDs, that hit the eardrums right. That’s not what’s playing though. Hardcore death metal, that I am 100% sure is Craig’s, blares out from the speakers.

He turns the volume down immediately and takes his attention from the road long enough to smile at me, just slightly, and say. “That’s Craig’s shit. He borrowed my car a few days ago.”

“Same day as the cut?”

He doesn’t answer that, so I say, “This isn’t the first time I’ve heard this shit in your car. I’m beginning to think you’re using Craig as an excuse. Admit it, you’re a metalhead.”

“I’d deny that in a court of law.”

My turn to smile. “Pussy.”

He takes out the CD, leans towards me and reaches his hand out. My heart rate kicks up a notch until I realise that he’s aiming for the glovebox. He swaps Craig’s CD with an unbranded one that’s got undecipherable scribbles on it. 

“Check this out.” He says as the player swallows the disc up and music stats to play. “They’re good. I heard them play at Sal’s the other week. Sully’s cousin’s the drummer.”

This music is more him. Better for surf and hangovers. Deran’s not genre specific but he’s ear gravitates to songs with tight lyrics, and heavy, deep beats that get to your soul. I close my eyes and lean back to take it in.

“You like it?” He asks.

“Not bad.” I grin. “Turn it up.”

  
+

Trestles looks kinda walled out so we cruise up to Huntington Beach and keep our fingers crossed that the surf’s better there today. It takes just shy of an hour but it’s worth it.

It‘s fun out, glassy swells, and no kooks out this early on a Sunday. 

It feels like old times once we hit the water. We’ve never been competitive with each other but Deran and I are warrior status when it comes to waves and weather conditions. He amps me up, cheers me on, and whoops so loud that I go all in and push my limits. I forget, for a moment that we are at war with each other.

After a session we head to where we left our things, exhausted, and punch our boards into the sand before settling on some beach towels he laid out earlier.

“You were throwing mega buckets, dude.” He says as he passes me a fresh towel to dry up. “Sweet work.”

“Thanks. You too.” I strip off the top part of my wetsuit and rub down.

“Nah. Did a few up and outs.”

“It got kinda choppy for you. I was in sync today.”

“It’s cool.” He grins. “You can say it. I bombed. You killed it.”

I laugh. “You didn’t bomb.” He really didn’t.

He twists open two beers and hands me one, then gets himself comfortable. He leans back on his elbows, still fully suited up, legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles.

I give my beer back and grab water instead. It’s technically still morning for Christ’s sake. 

He shrugs and takes a big gulp. 

“Hair of the dog.” He explains.

I lift an eyebrow. “As long as you get me home in one piece.”

Without beat he pours my beer and half of his into the sand before he puts what’s left of his beer down. 

“Better?” 

I nod as he looks out to the sea. He seems lost in the endless wall of blue before us. He’s quiet again. Thinking. I was afraid this silence would happen again. This is a perfect moment to talk about what I told him and how he reacted but I’m not sure I’m ready to.

I look at him. His hair is starting to dry up at the edges. His eyes are squinting against the sun, causing his nose to scrunch up a bit. He turns to look at me suddenly and catches me staring at him, like when we locked eyes last night. I had never felt as distant from him as I had when we connected nonverbally across his mother’s pool. He had been ignoring me all evening, moving away from me anytime I got close to him. Then when I tentatively glanced at him across Smurf’s pool, he turned away almost immediately to kiss that pretty girl with big tits and that were barely contained in her tiny bikini. 

A thousand feelings went through me. All complex and challenging and hard to control. Rejection. Defeat. Loss. Anger. I was done for the night after that. I had to leave. 

“So… should we talk or something?” Deran cuts into my thoughts of that recent memory. He’s talking to the sea, to the gentle waves that lap towards us only to fall away again.

“About?”

“How much of a dick I’ve been to you.”

I am surprised that he comes out with it just like that. I thought he’d deny it or something.

“I know I’ve been.” He whispers.

“Is that why you won’t look at me?”

He nods.

It feels like forever before he makes eye contact again. 

“I know that coffee and surfing aren’t enough but I’m trying to say I’m sorry.”

I can hear my sister faintly in my subconscious, reminding me of what I am meant to do. Tell him to fuck off with his bigotry.

“I’m sorry, dude. I messed up.” Deran looks so remorseful. So cut up. So apologetic. I try hard not to give in without an explanation. I try to harden up against his words and the way he looks at me but it’s hard.

“Do you want to punch me or something?” He asks. He sits up and faces me, cross-legged.

He isn’t joking. 

“Why would I want to do that?”

“I know we wouldn’t be even but, I don’t know what else… I won’t fight back. That’s how my brothers and I settle our shit.”

Damn Codys. I think I know how messed up they are until they say or do something to reveal a whole new layer of messed up. 

“An eye for an eye.” Deran says.

I clench a fist but then relax it when I imagine landing a punch square on his jaw. I couldn’t do that to him. “I don’t believe in that.”

“Then what do you believe in? What do you want me to do?” 

+

The hike up to the rocky cliff edge is intense; steep with lose stones. At times there is only a thin rope to help us up. The blistering midday heat isn’t helping. We keep going and keep talking until we finally reach the top. We are alone here but a few yards below us are a group of four teenage boys on a lip of rock who could be within ear shot. Deran and I press pause on our conversation as we watch them take turns at diving off the edge of the cliff into the bowl of water 30 or so feet below them. 

I glance at Deran. “We’re about 45 feet above the water.”

He doesn’t look remotely scared as he leans over the edge to see the water below.

Once the boys have done their dives, I restart the conversation we started on the hike up.

“… I caught the news a few of days ago. There was a story about a burglary at a jewellery store in Orange County. It said that they got past armed security men, a top of the range security alarm system. A reinforced metal vault.” I raise a questioning eyebrow. “They got away with it but apparently one of them got stabbed pretty badly in the arm. May have been his right one.”

I pointedly stare at Deran.

He shrugs and subconsciously rubs his cut. “They sound like criminal animals. Their parents must be ashamed of them.” 

I say, “I bet their mother made them apple pie and said attaboy instead.”

He takes a deep breath. “Could have been another type of pie.”

I throw him a wry smile. “Could have been.”

“You know I can’t talk about it.”

“About pie?” I ask. “Or about that?” I point at his stitches.

He scans my face. “It’s nothing.” He touches it.

“That wasn’t fixed in a hospital.”

He snorts. “Didn’t stop me surfing, did it? Didn’t stop me climbing these rocks.”

I want to add, Didn’t stop you grabbing at big titty girl at the party all night long either.

I don’t know why I’m asking him about the job or his injury. I have never meddled into what I know Deran and his brothers gets up to for their mother. I have never poked around. I’ve known to keep it to one side of our friendship. When he is flush with cash, or when he disappears for a few days or shows up with cuts and bruises and black eyes I see it, I might mention it but I don’t dwell on it. This is his life, the only one he has known and grown up in. Although I am not a part of it, I don’t judge or rat on it. I understand how circumstances form the character and behaviour of a person. 

I am probing now because I am worried for him. I realise that to avoid detection he probably had to have Smurf or one of his brothers fix him. No safety. No antibiotics. No numbing. I’m concerned that he finds that normal. I’m terrified that next time his wounds could be fatal, or he could get caught and hauled to jail or have an accomplice rat on him. 

Criminals get caught and killed all the time, no?

“I hope it’s worth the risk.” I say. 

“I heard it was. May even have been enough to keep their mother off their backs for a while. That’s worth risking life and limb.” 

He chews his lip as though physically biting back on what he wants to say next. I feel like there are a thousand unspoken words between us; things he can’t or won’t tell me. 

What he says is, “But sometimes it doesn’t feel worth it. Sometimes I just want to leave.”

He steps right up to the edge of the cliff so that his naked toes curl over the lip of rock. This drop is not for the faint hearted. 

“I used to come here alone when my head was messed up.” I tell him as I join him on the edge. “I felt like I had no one to talk to and nothing to lose. I didn’t think I could be me and exist in this world. So I would stand here and wish I was someone else who didn’t feel what I felt. And then I would jump and land in the water. And I would still be alive. I’d still have the same feelings. I slowly got to accept that.”

Deran stares at the water. “How many times do you want me to take this jump?”

At the beach he asked how he could make up for what he did, if I wasn’t prepared to punch him, and this is what came to mind. I don’t actually want him to take a leap unless he wants to. A couple of people have died cliff diving by hitting rocks hidden underwater. I don’t want that on my conscious.

I shake my head. 

“Forget it. Let’s climb down.” I suggest. 

“No way. I’m doing this.”

“Fine. We can do it together. Jump on three?”

He nods. “Sure.” 

He throws me a small smile and stands close to me. Too close. Close enough that I can smell his combination of aftershave, sunscreen and cigarettes. He’s close enough so that if I wanted to I could rest my hand on the nape of his neck and pull him to me for a kiss. 

I subconsciously tense up and take a step away from him. I don’t want to react the way I’m reacting to being near him. 

He notices something though. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” I say way too quickly. “Yeah.”

I jump into the void without warning and land cleanly into the water, far below, feet first. Tht’s one way to create easy distance. 

When I re-surface, I hear Deran laughing far above. “What happened to jump on three?!”

_I had to get away from you before I made a fool of myself, that’s what happened._

I tread water and shout up at him, “You coming down here or what?”

He smiles then backs away from the ledge until I can’t see him anymore. Seconds later he appears again, taking a running jump off the cliff, flying through the air, down, down, down until he enters the water, next to me.

+

We grab an early dinner at Chair 14 and insists on paying. I know it’s because he doesn’t feel like the sorry or the surf or the cliff dive were enough of an apology. It’s evening by the time he drops me off at home but still bright out. My body’s aching from the day’s activities and I’m a whole new level of exhausted.

Even so when he parks up near my house and kills the engine I’m not ready to say bye. When he looks over at me I realise I’ve outstayed my welcome and I jump out of the Scout. 

I’m surprised when Deran gets out too. Neither of us say anything as we walk to my front door. I get my house keys out and fumble with the lock.

“Dave should be up by now.” I say, to fill the silence between us.

He chuckles. “I’d hope so. It’s the end of the day.”

“Or, he said something about going out with Hannah tonight.”

I get the door open after more effort than it normally takes me and turn to him. “Do you want to come in? We could, um, we’ve got an X-Box? Or we could watch a movie or something?”

“Sure.” 

“Or go out grab a drink...”

“Okay.”

I nod briskly. “Which one?”

“I don’t mind.”

I decide for us and enter the house. It takes a while to adjust to the darkness inside after being out in the sun. 

“Take a seat.” I point to the couch in the living room and head to my bedroom to drop my things off.

Behind me he says, “Actually, maybe, … can I get a coffee for the road? Perk me up a bit.”

“Yeah sure.” 

After my bedroom, I dip my head into Dave’s room on way to the kitchen. He’s not there. 

“Looks like he’s with Hannah.” I say when I find Deran in the kitchen, opening and closing cupboards. 

“I was looking for the coffee. Thought I’d make it for us.”

I press him to one side and open probably the only cabinet he hasn’t been in to get the bag of ground coffee. “I got it.”

The kitchen feels cramped when there is more than one person in it. We have to scooch and slip past and trade places with each other while I get cups, spoons, sugar and water before finally standing by the coffeemaker and opposite him.

“You can sit out there while I get this ready.” I suggest.

“I’ll fall asleep if I sit.” 

He folds his hands across his chest as he leans on the countertop. “Tell me about Brad.”

The tablespoon full granulated coffee that I was holding, ready to fill the coffee maker, falls out of my hand and onto the counter. Some of the coffee spills onto the floor.

“Brad?”

“Yeah. Your, uh…” He clears his throat and he wraps his arms tighter around himself. “Boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” I feel my face go red. “He’s just a friend.”

I don’t even like him really. He’s too zen for me. I like fiery, passionate, big emotions. I brought Brad to the party yesterday as an act of defiance. A middle finger to Deran and people like him. People who feel the way they feel about people like me. Also, it didn’t hurt to feel desired by someone as hot as Brad is and who happens to bear more than a passing physical resemblance to Deran. 

“How about the girl you were with?” I challenge him.

Deran lifts an eyebrow. “You mean Monique?”

“Yes.”

“She’s just a friend too.”

What the hell does that mean? She clearly wasn’t just a friend. Is he implying that I’m lying about me and Brad? I’m not. I flirted with him maybe but that was it.

“I didn’t sleep with Brad. I’m not with him.”

“I didn’t sleep with Monique.”

Liar. After he practically gave her a physical with his tongue in public, is he going to try and tell me that he didn’t stick it in her last night?

“Whatever.” I ignore the spilt coffee on the floor and turn my back to him. 

I don’t want to show him how I’m insanely jealous and upset I feel. So I get back to prepping coffee. I grab the spoon, punch it into the coffee bag, scoop another spoonful of ground coffee beans and shove that into the coffeemaker.

I feel a hand on my shoulder and freeze. That hand caresses up my neck and into my hair. Gently. Slowly. Fingers comb my scalp.

I hold my breath. Deran’s body presses against mine. My heart leaps out of my chest. He is a firm, toned, warm presence against my back. His breathing is laboured. I can feel his heartbeat pounding against me. The rise and fall of his breaths match mine. His other hand wraps around me. Tenderly. It sneaks under my t-shirt and touches my skin.   
I must be suffering from heat stroke or exhaustion-associated hallucinations or the aftereffects of that blunt Ox made me smoke last night. Or something. Because this can’t be happening right now. I worry that if I move a muscle the fantasy will end or that I’ll wake up from whatever trance I’m in. He applies pressure on the lower part of my stomach and pulls me back to him so I push back. I feel him get hard as my butt rubs against him. Deran feels hot and I get hotter.

His lips touch my nape, the rough scrape of his beard contrasts with the gentle press of his lip. This is real and it’s incredible. It’s improbable but it’s happening. Deran is holding me to him as if he doesn’t want to let me go. I don’t want him to either, so I reach back to pull him closer to me even though it’s not possible to be closer than we already are.

He turns me round to face him suddenly.

He kisses me. Holds my head in his hands and takes me. I hungrily kiss him back. The chains that held down my feelings for him have broken and I pull him to me possessively. I offer him desperation, burning desire, bottomless lust and the need for connection. The countertop digs into me so I climb onto it and Deran falls in closer to me but doesn’t break our kiss. I’m too in the moment to think about where we are and who might catch us. This is raw and wild and dangerous. It’s like nothing I have felt before. Our lips meet and tongues caress and we share spit and heated air. He pulls away long enough to pull my top off, to watch my frantic breathing, to kiss my chest, before kissing me again as if his life depends on it. 

We both hear a sound. It comes from the street outside but it’s enough to stop us for a second. I push him off me, jump off the countertop, pick my top up off the floor and shake the coffee out of it.

We can’t be here, in the kitchen, when Dave gets back.

“We should go to my room.” I whisper and take his hand. 

I must look a lusty mess because he does. He’s eyes are slightly unfocussed. His hair is in disarray, his lips are plump from our ferocious kisses. His skin is red from the adrenaline rush. I tug at him. “Come on.”

He looks shocked. Completely shocked.

He wipes his lips in panic and looks at the top in my hands as though wondering how he ended up stripping it off me when the plan was a coffee for the road.

“Deran.”

He lets out a sound that resembles a man choking. “No.”

He pushes past me, knocking me into the kitchen’s wall and runs out of my house.

I take after him until my own front door shuts in my face. 

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

What the fuck just happened?

I just made out with my best friend. My ex best friend. My homophobic ex best friend. My homophobic ex best friend who came onto me.

SHIT.

The door opens again in the middle of my meltdown. I assume it’s Dave but when I look up it’s Deran.

He grabs my hand wordlessly and leads me to my bedroom.


	3. Missing Meals Isn't Good For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deran's POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning- Sexual content. 
> 
> Thank you for reading this!

I get as far as my jeep before I stop dead in my tracks.

My heart is thumping. My skin is tingling. My blood has pooled in my groin. I look down at the tent in my shorts; a raging hard on. It takes me back to just a few moments ago when Adrian and I went from making coffee to making out. I kissed him. Pulled him to me. I couldn’t stop myself. Something unexpected happened, shifted inside me, and I allowed myself to do what I shouldn’t have done.

I must be beyond tired. I have barely slept over the past two days and on top of that I’ve spent the day doing sporting activities. I am exhausted. I am not myself. That is the only way to explain why I groped and kissed him.

That’s why I had to leave. It shouldn’t have happened. It was a mistake. I dig out my car keys from my shorts, unlock the car and jump in. Then I pause. I can’t bring myself to drive off. I have an unsettled feeling in my stomach. Staying feels wrong but so does leaving.

I jump out of my jeep and slam the door shut. I walk back to Adrian’s place with purpose. I know what I have to do. I need to go back in there and let him understand that our kiss crossed the line. I’ll tell him that it was a mistake. That it was nothing and that it is never going to happen again. I’ll tell him because what we did won’t fly in my world, with a mother like mine and brothers who are macho psychos or red-blooded sluts who stick their meat into any hot woman with a pulse. I am going to tell him that we’re still cool though as long as he keeps his mouth shut about it. That I am willing to still be friends or whatever but that I am not like that. Not like him.

Yeah. That’s what I’m going to say.

His front door is closed but unlocked. I open it and I’m surprised by him standing right in front of me, as if he was about to come out. He looks me up and down, just as shocked as I am. He does that subtle nose wriggle thing that he does when he’s unsure of himself. 

I open my mouth, ready to say what I have to say but nothing comes out. I stare at him instead; a toned, tanned and uncertain Adrian. Tender. He’s that too. It’s a quality he has that no one else in my life has towards me. Maybe tender is not the word because he isn’t soft or anything with it. He is understanding, gentle. He listens to me. Being the youngest, no one listened to me at home. But he has, like a replacement brother, since we were little. He is comfortable with quietness when anyone else would feel the need to fill silence. And his words of advice are on point. So right for the moment. Maybe because he knows me. He knows how to say things in a way that sinks into my brain. That's why I have felt comfortable enough to open up to him about things I would never dream of telling anyone else. Things about Smurf, my aspirations, my thoughts... 

No. Tender is the word to describe him whether he is talking or silent, as he is now. It undoes me. This silent tenderness. I shove everything that isn’t me and Adrian to one side. What I feel becomes easy and uncomplicated that way. It is just me and him and how he makes me feel right now.

I step over the threshold and close the distance between us. I take his hand and lead him to his bedroom as though it is the most natural thing in the world.

He closes his bedroom door behind us without letting go of my hand. My eyes automatically drift to his unmade double bed.

He smiles in embarrassment at the untidiness then looks down at our intertwined fingers. His grin broadens. He’s so happy. His blue clear eyes pierce my heart and soul. My mind goes fuzzy. The rational and calculating part of my brain shuts down. My body and heart take charge. They don’t second guess, hesitate, over-think, feel ashamed or repress.

I kiss him urgently before my common sense kicks in. I kiss him because I am desperate to and because I find him irresistible. I press myself to him and push us closer to his bed. He’s incredible. Passionate at first. Strong. Responsive as if flood gates have opened and he can’t hold himself back. He clings to me as much as I do to him and kisses me as hard and as desperately as I kiss him.

But then he stops me. Pulls back.

“I’m not sleeping with you.” He whispers breathlessly with his hands on my chest and his mouth an inch from mine. So tempting.

“Ok.” I say immediately.

I can’t say any more because he delves in to kiss me more. Cups my cheeks in his hands and leads me into a gentler embrace. A change of pace.

I try to concentrate on what he said while he circles his arms around my neck smoothly and rests them on my shoulders. No sex. I feel every part of him against every part of me. Okay. Yeah. Of course. No sex. Who said anything about sex anyway? Why not though? What’s his reason? Not that I am saying I want to...

He pulls at me while still kissing me until I feel us both falling; him backwards onto his bed and me on top of him, in a move that contradicts his words. That snaps me back away from my thoughts and back into the moment. He huffs a laugh and everything happens at once. We adjust ourselves to get comfortable; so that bones aren't jutting into bone. So that I fit perfectly on top of him. We kiss, share spit and heated charged breaths. He pushes down my shorts and underwear in one move. I shimmy them down from my knees to my ankles then kick them off clumsily. He curls his legs around my waist as I flatten myself on him. I remember his words so I stop and try to pull away. I force myself to slow down, but he tightens his strong legs around me. They are a welcome cage that I don't want to escape from.

"Yeah?" I ask.

"Yeah." He murmurs as he rakes his hand across my back.

I close my eyes to savour the feeling of being on him, so physically close to him. His smell is intoxicating. It reminds me of the ocean; sea and heat. When I press my lips to his neck and swipe my tongue over it, I taste the salt from the seawater and his sweat. Our lips meet again and our tongues merge. I wish he were naked. I try to push down his shorts but only get them partway down his bum before he reaches up to take my top off. He hungrily studies my chest before kissing over it and biting the skin over my heart. I moan when his lips tease my nipples. He has talented lips and an even more talented tongue. I wonder what other talents they have?

His hands skim my skin, edging south while we kiss, reminding me that every inch of me is bare. His fingers reach my cock and it jerks from their lightest touch. I have never felt so hard. I take a moment to savour this. To compose myself. To watch the lustful concentration on his face as he sizes me up. He lightly and slowly rubs me up and down in a loose fist. Like a test run. He checks my reaction. I crash my mouth to his.

That’s a yes.

I can feel him playing with my precum, using it as lube, making the strokes slicker and firmer. He slides the tip of a finger over the head of my cock and brings it to our lips; adds it to our spit as we kiss. I have never tasted myself before- never got the appeal. It felt like a gay thing to do so I definitely didn’t allow myself to lean into the urge. Right now, I forget all that. It feels intense and intimate. Both of us tasting the proof of my excitement. He does it again and moans into my mouth when I wrap my arms around him. I want to possess him completely.

He flips us over. It’s so fluid that I don’t realise that he is now on top until he goes down on me. I gasp loud enough that for a second I worry that his neighbours have heard me. I bite the back of my hand to stay quiet. I look down. His mop of short brown hair is at the level of my groin. My cock is in his mouth and he is bobbing up and down. Again and again. His lips, mouth, tongue and throat... he takes me deeper and he makes me weak with pleasure and desire. This is the most intense combination of tension and heat. The soft, moist textures of his tongue mixed with the firm ridge of his palate and throat. The sound of slurping and sucking is a turn on. I can’t take how amazing it all is. All of it. I wondered what the fuss was all about when friends bragged about being blown. I never rated it.

Now I do. Adrian’s got me feeling more heated and turned on than I have ever felt before.

I reach to tilt his chin up. I want to see his face. He comes up off my dick, red eyed but smiling. Lips plump and shiny. He playfully kisses the tip of my dick. I nod in answer to his unspoken question. He starts to jack me off while looking at me with complete lustful concentration. I am so close to shooting my load. He pushes his hand in his shorts and pumps at the same rhythm. His hand on my dick is replaced by his mouth once again. He’s gasping and moaning; a writhing statue of beauty; getting us both off. I run a hand through his hair and grip the back of his head as I feel my climax approaching; it's like the crest of a wave heading toward a shore line. I don’t want it to break but it’s inevitable. I am so, so close. 

I think I say that, plead it into the room, to him. To warn him.

"I'm close."

He takes as much of me down his throat as he can. It’s divine. And it’s too much to resist. I can’t hold on. The wave’s crashing so I hold on tight to him. I want him on this ride with me. I feel my body tense up as I feel his tense up to, under my fingertips.

I cum hard. With every cell in my body. Forgetting that noise travels. With complete elation. As if I have just rode the best damn swell with a perfect surf.

+

“Fuck.”

The aftershocks have got me good. I close my eyes from the intensity. Just when I think they are done a final ripple hits me and throws me off. I feel boneless, relaxed. Without thinking I pull Adrian up and next to me. When he flops by my side, I scoot up closer to him in his bed.

There is damp in his shorts. 

“What?” He says as studies my face.

I look down. He came to. That's his jizz in his shorts. My cum is... I feel a knot begin to form in the depth of my belly as I think about the end of that sentence. A niggle of doubt and regret.

He takes his shorts off and uses them to clean up before tossing them on a pile of clothes in the corner that must be his dirty pile. Adrian has always been messier than me. 

He lies back down next to me as I feel myself sobering up from my climax. My heartbeat evens out and my breathing slows. My body temperature drops as I feel his naked body against mine. He tentatively puts his hand on my chest and closes his eyes.

Not long later, his breathing settles into one of sleep.

I nudge him gently but he doesn’t stir. Passed out from fatigue.

I should push him off me.

I should go.

I don’t though. His hand is resting on my chest, rising and falling with my breathing. His face is peaceful. Like he hasn’t got a care in the world. I feel my eyes go heavy. Tired. They close of their own will. I take Adrian’s hand in mine. It feels good doing that.

I am too tired to leave. Maybe it is better if I take a nap before I go. Driving safety 101. Don’t drive while tired. An hour’s shut eye. Max. For public safety. That’s all I’ll allow myself. Then I’ll go. I’ll be out of here. And I’ll never do this again.

+

I am woken up by bright shafts of light coming through the bedroom window and sounds from inside the house.

It takes me a moment to remember where I am. When I do, I sit bolt upright in Adrian’s bed. I am still butt naked and on top of his bed linen. He is not in bed though. His clothes from yesterday are on top of that increasing pile of dirty clothes in the corner of the room and his bedroom door is closed.

I get dressed quickly and step out into the corridor to hear music coming from the kitchen. And voices; Adrian and his roommate’s.

I try to sneak past the open kitchen door so that I can escape, undetected.

“Where d’you think you’re going?” Dave, Adrian’s roommate, calls out to me.

Shit. Busted.

“Hi.” I make no attempt to go into the kitchen. From where I am, I can’t see Adrian which is ideal. “I’ve got to go. I’m running late.”

“You can't leave without saying hi. Come here!” Dave says unhelpfully.

I sigh as I step into the kitchen. I really did not want to face Adrian. He is standing on the opposite countertop to Dave. I try to suss him out and to read his expression without actually making eye contact with him. He is looking at me. I can say that much.

Has he told Dave what happened?

If he has, I’ll deny it. 

“What time is it?” I ask Dave.

“One o’clock. We’re taking a quick lunch break before going back to work.” It is only when Dave stuffs a forkful of salad into his mouth that I notice the bowls of food in front of each of them. “You know Tao. Goes ape shit if you’re a second late from a break. Asshole.”

“One o’clock?” 

How did I end up sleeping so long? I slept all night and all morning without waking up. What the fuck? I check my phone. I slept through three missed calls from Smurf and two from Craig. I know why they were trying to reach me. My brothers and I were supposed to go over to my mother's place for breakfast today. I didn’t turn up and didn’t tell her. That is a no-no.

“I’ve got to go.” I tell Dave.

With a full mouth Dave continues, “When we got in a few minutes ago you were still out for the count. Ade checked on you. I was legit worried that Monique killed you! That’s what I said, right, Ade?! Death by pussy!” He laughs and Adrian looks at me apprehensively. Silently. He hasn’t eaten anything since I’ve come in. “Nah, I’m kidding. Ade said that you’ve been shattered with all your surf practice.”

Did Adrian find me sleeping the way I was when I woke up, occupying the whole surface area of his bed like a belly-up naked starfish?

“I’ve really got to go.” I feel panic build over what we did last night. What if Dave had gone into Adrian's room? What if he suspects?

“More surfing?” Dave’s eyes light up.

I think fast. “Yeah. Yeah. That.”

“You should go with Adrian. You're prepping for Belize, right?”

I hadn’t forgotten that Adrian was going to Belize too but it had disappeared into the back of my mind, what with not having talked to him for months. A few months ago, he, Craig and a few of our friends planned to join me out there to support me while I competed and to enjoy the island for a few weeks. I have booked us a sick Beach House on an Island Resort using sponsor money. Now that Dave has reminded me of the trip, I face the realisation that Adrian and I will be staying in the same house, under the same roof, as me in two weeks’ time.

Alarm sets in.

“Ade’s a monster on the water now. I told him he should go pro next year. Join you in competitions.” Dave continues. It’s as if he hasn’t noticed the tension in the room. "Like you did in juniors. Anyway, he was just telling me that from what he’s seen of you, you’re going to crush it this time.”

I glance at Adrian. Does he honestly think I’m good enough to win? After getting to the semi’s in Hossegar, I totally nosedived and didn’t even qualify in Durban.

He gives me a tentative smile. I frown and look away.

I start edging away.

“Remember a couple of years ago, you came third in Sydney and that was with the ankle injury.” Dave continues as he sprays aerolised salad from his full open mouth. “I know shit about surfing but that’s insane. Plus Ade does and he’s got faith in you.”

Adrian drags his fingers through his hair nervously. I have a flash back of combing my fingers through it, just before I kissed him and right before I came down his throat.

I feel myself get hot, bothered and unsettled at the memory. “I’m going.” I force out. This time I make a proper move to leave.

“Wait.” That’s the first thing Adrian says to me.

That stops me in my tracks, but I can’t bring myself to turn around or look at him directly in the eyes.

“Yeah.”

“So I guess I’ll see you around.” I can hear the uncertainty in his tone.

“Yeah. Sure.”

I practically run out of the house.

+

“Yo, bro, seriously?” Craig says at me in disappointment.

All my brothers are at Smurf’s, gathered around the pool. Pope is in the zone, drenched in sweat, face grimacing and doing burpies at the far end of the garden. Baz and Craig are laying out on the deckchairs by the pool. Sunglasses on. Soaking up the sun.

“You missed breakfast.” Baz says without moving a muscle. “And lunch.”

“Missing meals isn’t good for you.” Pope shouts at me.

Craig reaches up to me to fist bump me in greeting. “Smurf made those amazing sausages that she gets from that bougie butcher on Mesa.”

I walk past them and towards the kitchen. “Any left? I’m starving.”

“You snooze you lose.” Baz mutters.

“Screw you.” From the outside, I scan the interior of the house through the open windows.

“She’s not here.” Baz says.

I make sure the coast is clear nonetheless before entering. You can never be too sure with Smurf. I quickly grab three beers from the fridge and walk back out to sit in a deck chair next to Craig.

“Where is she?” I open the beer bottles and pass two along.

“Gone to get groceries for tonight. She wants us to come to dinner too.”

I take a big swig out of my drink. “Nah. Fuck that.”

“Bro, dinner is happening because you didn’t make breakfast.” Baz finally moves just enough to drink his beer. “You know she’ll just make me drag you here if you don’t show up.”

I sigh. He’s right. It’s pointless fighting my mum. Who cares if I might have plans tonight or my own shit going on? Not her.

“I think she has a job for us.” Craig says excitedly.

I get why he’s happy. A job means money and we all need money. But I would argue that there are better and safer ways to make it. This is not what I want to do with my life. I want to concentrate on competing, not avoid getting shot at or locked up. I am tired of being bossed around by Smurf. I am a grown man, with my own place but I still feel like a dependent child where my mother is concerned.

My phone rings so I look down at the screen. I feel an immediate knot in my stomach and a jump in my heart rate. It’s Adrian.

“You going to get that?” Pope shouts at me from all the way across the other side of the garden. He is slightly breathless and very irritated. “It’s wrecking my rhythm.”

I decline Adrian’s call and drop my phone back into my short pockets. I immediately feel relief as I settle back in my chair and keep working through my beer.

“Why’d you ghost him?” Craig looks at me over the rim of his sunglasses.

“Who?”

“Adrian.” He points at the pocket with my phone.

I feel my heart stop.

“I saw the caller ID.” He explains.

“Oh.”

Craig takes his shades off and stares me down. “Dude, Smurf said that you stayed over at his last night. It’s the only reason she didn’t send us out to look for you this morning.”

So this is a fucked up thing about my mother. She tracks us using our phones. Fact. We found out years ago. It was after I ran away from home as a teenager. She found me within hours. I threw away the phone she had given me and told my brothers. I bought my own phone, but it was pointless. She still managed to track me down after that. That is when I learned an important lesson, one that I keep fighting against. My mother is a manipulative, possessive psychopath that will always get her way.

So when she gave me a new smart phone, the birthday after I found out about her spying, I gave in, took it and said thank you.

Baz interjects. “Save us all her drama and call us in the future if you’re not going to come.”

“I crashed at Adrian’s because I drank too much last night.” I blurt out.

LIES.

“Damn, I feel you.” Craig squints as he puts his sunglasses back on. “Want a bump? It’s helped me.”

“No. Thanks.”

Craig is on a constant rollercoaster of uppers and downers. Sometimes I think that the only thing stopping an OD is his size.

I take out a pack of cigarettes, take one out and put it to my lips.

“Does this mean you’ve made up?” He asks.

The flame from the lighter burns my thumb as I freeze while lighting up, mid-action.

“What do you mean?” I hiss with the cigarette still lodged in my mouth. My hand is shaky as I light up and put my lighter away.

I feel on edge.

I feel under the microscope. Under interrogation.

“With Adrian. You haven’t spoken to him in a minute, so I was surprised when Smurf said you crashed-”

“We talked. We’re chill now. Dave was there too. What’s with the questions?”

Craig looks at me strangely. “You high, bro?”

“No. I’m just done with you prying into my life. Fucking sick of it.” I take a drag from my cigarette and a sip from my beer.

Craig’s confused. “What’s gotten up your ass?”

“What did you say?” I know I am being oversensitive and defensive but I can’t stop myself. The flashbacks don’t help. Adrian smiling at me while crouched between my legs. Me taking his hand in mine once he fell asleep next me. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Shit. You’re messing with my high, D. Relax.”

“I’ll tell you what’s up my butt. I need to be training for Belize not thinking about Smurf and her fucking breakfast or dinner or her stupid plans for another dangerous job. Or you going on and on about Adrian for some reason!”

My brothers look at me in stunned silence.

“Ass.” Baz says quietly after a bit.

“What?” I say, still heated.

“Craig said, what’s up your ‘ass’ not ‘butt’.”

I look at him angrily. Really? That is what he is picking up on as important right now? He cracks a smile. Craig does too.

“Yeah. I heard ‘ass’!” Pope shouts over to us. He has stopped his exercising. “Not ‘butt’. There’s an important difference.”

Craig nods. “Should I tell him?”

Baz nods. “It’s basic science. Tell him.”

Craig looks sombre, like a school Math teacher. “A butt is what the average Jo or Jane have at the base of their back and top of their legs. Bits of flesh that hide the butt hole. But an ass is something special. Magical! It makes you look twice. Makes you want to write poetry about it.”

Baz adds. “Use it as a pillow. Slap it to make it shake.”

Craig grins, “Get up in it. Bite it…”

My face goes somewhere between a scowl and a smile. My gross, immature, funny brothers. They can really piss me off but also somehow always find a way to make me smile.

“Motorboat it. Worship it.” Craig adds with a look of ecstasy on his face.

“Stop! Enough. You guys are sick.” I have completely lost my anger. My smile at them.

“You’re going to tell us that you haven’t come across an ass, bro?” Craig grabs my hand causing the beer I’m holding to spill a little.

I immediately think of Adrian in shorts.

“I saw you with Monique. That’s an ass!” Craig smiles as he nudges me. “By the way, I should have probably told you earlier, but if you decide to keep sticking it into her, you’ll want to double bag. Chris is at least 70% sure that he got gonorrhoea from her.”


	4. Cheetos or Doritos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrian's POV

I get in the zone when I’m working on fixing a surfboard. All the concentration and attention to detail that is needed to do this job means there is no room for other thoughts and feelings to invade my brain. This distraction is exactly what I need and this work room is the one place where I can get it. I can’t seem to escape my thoughts when I’m at home or hanging out with friends because Deran’s name comes up or I'll hope he doesn't show up or wish desperately that he will. I can’t forget when I’m trying to get to sleep because I remember him there in bed with me. Nothing in my life allows me to move on because most of my life has had him in it. 

Deran has made it plenty clear that he doesn’t want me as a friend or anything else after what we did two days ago. That shouldn't come as a surprise but it does. A part of me felt that everything finally made sense and that we could figure out what we were going to do going forward, together. But he hasn’t answered the two calls I've made or the texts I've sent. Deran isn't one to leave anyone hanging unless it's deliberate so I took the hint. I stopped trying to reach him.

This is my fault. I could have prevented how shit I am feeling if I actually told him that I was done with his bullshit like I set out to do. I had planned to end our friendship after his silent treatment these past two months. Then he apologised and this felt like they were back to normal after his brother’s birthday. I gave him another chance. But when he kissed me it was unexpected yet wanted. So badly. I got caught in a riptide I couldn't fight against.

_'I'm not going to sleep with you.'_

What a joke. I didn't believe my own words even as I said them. 

I’ve messed up. I shouldn’t have given into my desire because Deran Cody is never going to be cool with what happened between us and what it says about who he is attracted to.

The sound of grinding from my sander floods the workroom at the surf shop as I smooth back resin on the surfboard. The room fills with a foggy mist of aerosolised resin despite the ventilation and open windows. Luckily my protective face mask and powder smeared goggles provide protection and act a cocoon from the toxins. I slide the back of my hand across the hard clear plastic in front of my eyes to clear my view.

After a few passes with the handheld power machine, I run a palm over the board’s surface. It's much smoother but still not perfect. I switch to a sandpaper block for an even finer finish.

“Adrian.”

I look up. Tao is standing at the door.

“Yep.”

“It’s time to go home, kid.”

I look at the clock. It’s just after eight pm. The shop closed at six. “I’m good. I can keep going.”

“Yeah, but I’m telling you to get out of here.” He looks tired. “I’m not paying you overtime, dude!”

“You don’t have to.” I get back to sanding. “Honestly, I don’t have anything else planned for tonight. Leave the keys over there. I’ll lock up when I’m done.”

“So what am I supposed to tell your boyfriend out there?” Tao raises an eyebrow.

”Wait. What?”

“What’s his name again?” Tao click’s his fingers as if that will help him.

I drop the sanding block. In a flash I whip my goggles and face mask off and my heart goes on the quickest up and down rollercoaster. Deran pops to mind. I imagine that he’s standing by the shop front and that he has an apology and a totally understandable reason for ghosting me these past few days. I picture him saying that he wants whatever is between us to happen.

Then I remember that Tao knows Deran. Whoever it is can’t be him.

“You’ve been hanging out with him a fair bit recently. Blond. Tall. Help me out here. Looks like he could bench press me.”

My plus one at Craig’s birthday.

"Brad. And he’s not my boyfriend.”

Tao shrugs. “My point is, you’ve got a better offer than what you are doing. You’re done here for today. I’ll lock up.”

+

Brad shudders as he cums then collapses on top of me like a tree being felled.

His breath is wet and moist against my neck. “Fuck.”

I am not exactly a small guy but I feel it when compared to his extra height and mass. His weight on me is suffocating. He starts kissing me again so I kiss him back. When he pulls out and bonelessly rolls off me I feel relief from the release but as the heat of the moment goes, numbness overwhelms me. The sex was hot but it's left me feeling empty. I feel nothing. Nothing in my body, my mind. I feel nothing for Brad. I had hoped for distraction but this wasn't it. 

I feel like shit.

Brad pulls off the condom and drops it in the trash can by his bed.

“Damn. I’m glad I came looking for you tonight.” He grins at me. "I like hanging out."

We clearly have different views on what hanging out means. I sit up and crawl to the edge of his bed; look around for my clothes. “Yeah.” I reach for my underwear which is hanging from the end of his bed. Pick it up.

I feel him touch my bum. “You’ve got a great ass, man.”

“Thanks. Um.” I don’t turn to face him. “I’m going to take a shower.” I glance back at him when I realise I might be coming off rude.

“Cool. You know where the fresh towels are. You want company?”

Those words feel like a noose round my neck. “No.”

+

A couple of days later Brad and I are getting beers and food for a kick back and surf session at the beach. It’s going to be mainly people I know but I’ve invited Brad as a shield. I know how, from the outside, this might look like we are becoming a thing because our social circles are mingling and we’ve been hanging out a lot for the past few weeks but it’s not like that. At least not for me. Not yet.

I get a text from Ox while we meander through the aisles of a supermarket pushing an empty trolley around.

_Hey. Are you coming?_

_Swells are killer today._

_Yeah. On our way.Just_

_getting beers and snacks._

_Is it okay if I bring Brad?_

_The more the merrier hermano!_

I glance at Brad who has stopped in the snack aisle and is looking intently at rows of chips. 

“We should get chips.” He muses.

“Yeah.” I reply.

Ox arranged this get together and he is closer to Deran than he is to me. They met in juvie so chances are he invited Deran to this thing today. I can’t decide whether this means I want to go more or whether I want to bail. I turn the screen away from Brad’s eye view before typing.

_Hey, real quick is Deran_

_going to be there?_

“Cheetos or Doritos?”

I look up.

Brad is shaking a bag of each brand in his hands.

“Not even a question. Cheetos all the way.”

“Really? That was a test and you failed, dude. Doritos are fire.”

I smile. “Talk to me when you’ve tried the Cheddar Jalapeno Cheetos.”

“Oh yeah?” He replaces the bags he has in his hand with two Cheddar Jalapenos bags. He looks at the label on one of them. “Actually I think I have. They were at that party we went to, like three days ago. Your friend’s brother’s birthday.”

“Really?” I try to act like I don’t know what he is talking about, but the thing is the Cheddar Jalapeno flavor has been Deran’s and my favourite chip for years. Since he organised his brother’s birthday it was a given that he’d buy a shit tonne of the stuff for it.

“Although, you weren’t acting too friendly with him that night. What’s the deal with you guys, anyway?”

“Nothing. We fell out. It happens.”

Brad shrugs and starts walking towards the dips. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say he’s crushing on you.”

“What makes you say that?”

He looks left and right. There is an older couple who are shopping further down the aisle who, like us moments ago, are debating on what to buy. Brad takes a step up to me. “Because he was staring at you like this all night long.”

He looks at me with desire that burns into my soul and makes my stomach knot. I imagine Deran looking at me like this. Then Brad leans in and kisses me. Right here in the middle of the store. As if it’s normal for dudes like us, from where we come from, to do shit like this in public. It takes me by surprise.

He notices and smiles. “You know, we could always skip the beach and go back to mine?”

My phone pings. Ox has replied with two messages,

_Yeah. He's just turned up with Jen._

_I guess Monique's last week's flavor!_

I picture turning up at the beach and seeing Deran. It shouldn’t matter, but I know that if I go, it’ll kill me to be treated like I'm invisible, like I'm some piece of shit nobody by the guy I considered my best friend. And I can't face seeing him all over yet another girl.

I put my phone away.

"Who was that?" Brad looks curious.

"Ox. Apparently the surf's weak."

"If I'm honest, I'm not much of a surfer anyway."

I pat his arm. “Cool. You know what you were saying about skipping the beach. I’m down. Let’s go back to yours.”

Brad grins from ear to ear. “Shall I still get the Cheetos?”

“Yes.”


	5. You're Losing It, Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deran's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for continuing to read this. Please leave comments on the story or your thoughts. How did you picture the events around Belize?

For me surfing isn’t a solo sport. Until 2 months ago, I could count on one hand, the number of times I hit the waves on my own. But being alone has become a habit. Life’s been less complicated that way. 

My legs feel like dead weights by the time I get back on the shore after an intense session on the water. The leglessness is not all caused by fatigue though. I am stoned and mellowed out from a blunt and three beers I had earlier. I rinse off under the beach shower then drag myself to the Scout. I should call it a day- I have spent too much time on the waves already and I feel fatigue setting into my bones- but I don’t feel like leaving yet. This is a distraction. What’s the alternative? Go back to my empty house? It’s depressing and I’ve turned it into a shithole. Hang out with so-called friends? They’ll either want something from me or to lay into me about how I treat Adrian. Drop in on my brothers or Smurf? They’ll try to rope me into whatever next job she’s got lined up for us. 

I could go see Adrian. That is what I want to do but I know I shouldn’t. Not after what happened. I’m not sure what I would do if I saw him or what I’d say. It’s better to keep my distance from him, from all of them.

I pop the boot and open the cooler box I brought along. The beers in there are still ice cold. I down a bottle as soon as I open it. This is not the way to train for a big competition but beer and weed have become my best friends. Unlike people, they don’t talk back. They don’t confuse me or make me question who I am and what I really want.

I perch on the edge of the boot and stare out at the angry sea as I untwist the top off another bottle. In other circumstances this could be a great day out. Not long ago I would be right here with friends. And my brothers. And Adrian. Us and killer swells. No LA douchebags. Just fun by the ocean where I feel most at home with seagulls flying above, water crashing against the shoreline and our boards in hand. 

Today, sitting here alone, I get a sense of loss. I feel a hole in my core. It’s the opposite of joy.

My phone rings, but I ignore it. It will be one of my brothers or worse, Smurf. I drink my second post-surf beer a fraction slower than the first and pick up another one. The phone stops ringing only to start again. Once, twice, three times. I sigh with relief when I finally think the pestering is over but it restarts again for a fourth and fifth time. I pick it up angrily and turn it to silent. 

Craig is trying to reach me. Smurf knows that I am closest to him which means she is using him to get hold of me. Well I am not baiting this time. I am not falling for her manipulative behaviour any more.

I lose track of time feeling angry, talking myself up to staying strong against her, while working my way through a pack of cigarettes and my booze. Eventually I lie down in the back of my jeep, too drunk to move or care that I have clumsily spilled some of my drink onto myself. 

I wake up a little while later just enough to hear a car park up next to mine. I feel a shadow block the heat from the sun above me so I slowly open my eyes and squint.

“Bro, answer your damn phone.”

Craig is staring down at me. I close my eyes again to shut out his judgement. He punches my arm and slaps my thigh as a wake up call. 

“Can you fucking not!” I mutter as I gingerly rub my bicep.

“You’re wasted.” 

I slur. “No, I’m not.”

He sits down next to me, looking far too serious for one of the least serious people I know.

I anticipate the purpose of his trip to see me. “I said I wasn’t coming to dinner last night. So I didn’t come.” 

“Yo. Stop being defensive. I just wanted to check that you were okay.”

“How did you find me?”

“Checked out where the best waves were going to be. You’re predictable, man.”

“Did Smurf send you?”

He stays quiet instead of stating the obvious which is ‘yes’.

“She’s got a job for us.”

“No shit. I figured dinner wasn’t free.”

“I think it’s got legs.”

“Then good luck and enjoy. I’m not doing it.”

“Aren’t you going to hear it at least? Baz wants you to get a car. Something forgettable. And he wants us to scout the location, intel on security.”

“When?”

“When what?”

“The scouting.”

“Tomorrow.”

“What are Pope and him doing? Sipping cocktails?”

“They’re getting in touch with an inside man and getting ammo.”

“Another bank?”

“The California Coast Credit Union on Santa Fe in Encinitas.”

“Same difference. I’m not doing it.”

Craig sighs. “What’s with you, man? Your attitude stinks.”

“I’m done being Smurf’s bitch. Aren’t you?”

“I’m not her bitch.”

I look at him, all two or three of him, and scowl.

“I’m serious.” He says. “Look. You’ve either got to straight up tell her that you’re done with her shit or suck it up and turn up. Acting like a pussy and running from her isn’t going to cut it. Why have you suddenly got a problem with it anyway?”

The truth is I have always been uneasy about what we do. What was I supposed to do about it as a kid though? I was dependent on Smurf. I was the youngest and I didn’t want to let her or my brothers down. I loved them and I wanted to be part of the family; worthy of my place as a Cody. But as I got older all that changed.

“I always had a problem with what we have to do for her. I'm finally saying something about it.”

Craig grabs one of my beers. “Your beer’s warm.”

That would be because I fell asleep without closing the cooler. “Then don’t drink it.”

“Don’t be stupid.” He grins at me as he takes a sip and sighs with satisfaction. “Beer is beer.”

“Do you have weed on you?”

“Nah. I’ve got oxy and-” He digs into his jeans pocket and takes out a small plastic bag with white powder. “-a bit of blow.”

“No. Pass.”

“Since when have you been so fucked up you’re passed out in public by eleven in the morning, dude? You might want to ease off.”

“Coming from you?” I squint at him. Trying to open my eyes more than this pierces through to my brain. “Pass me your sunglasses. My eyes hurt.”

He lightly slaps me across the head, playfully. “Nah. Consider this punishment.”

+

That night, I stare at the text messages Adrian sent me after I last saw him. It is a pointless thing to do. That’s probably why I am doing it in my state; while hungover and lying in bed.

_17.51_

_Hi. Dave, me and a few others_

_are going to Morena’s tonight._

_They’ve got live music so I thought_

_I’d invite you._

_23.03_

_Hey. I get that you’re probably_

_freaked out after what happened._

_If you want we can talk about it._

_No judgement._

_23.57_

_I’m not going to tell anyone if_

_that’s what you’re worried_

_about btw._

I didn’t reply and the next day he texted:

06.15

_Hi. I am going to catch some waves_

_at San Onofre in a bit. Just me. Not_

_sure what you’re up to but let me_

_know if you’re interested. It’d be cool_

_to have company._

I run my thumb across that text. _It’d be cool to have company._ The feeling is mutual. I can picture him tapping out those words. How was he feeling when he did? Freaked out? Nervous? Unsure? Was he chewing at his lower lip the way he does when he’s unnerved by something. Is he wondering what I’m thinking the way I’m wondering what he’s thinking? 

I have totally pulled away from him since we did what we did. I still cannot bring myself to say out loud what happened. I try to block out the memory but it’s impossible. It keeps stabbing its way into my consciousness. I get flashes of us in his bed. His blue unwavering eyes. His hand wrapped around my dick. His smile. The feeling of his mouth engulfing me. Our kiss. His arm flung across my chest. His warm cum cooling on my skin. His hair tickling my chin as he rested his head in the crook of my neck. 

It was incredible but it was wrong. It was unforgettable but I have to let it stay in the past. It was a complete mistake and yet something inside me screams the opposite.

My phone vibrates and rings in my hands. Monique. Shit. I watch as it rings out and goes to voicemail. She is after a booty call. I’m not up for that so I quickly text her:

_Sorry. I’m in Ensenada._

_I’ll call you when I get back._

A text pings through which I assume to be from her but it’s Ox.

_Surf’s supposed to be good_

_at Trestles tomorrow. You in?_

_I was going to barbeque._

Anything for a distraction.

_I’m in. Have you invited Monique?_

_No. Why?_

_I just told her I’m in Mexico._

_Dude! You planning to bring_

_someone else?_

_Maybe..._

_Head’s up. I’ve invited Adrian._

_Is that going to be a problem?_

My heart rate kicks up a notch and I feel a knot in my stomach.

_Why would it be?_

_You tell me. I still smell beef._

_There’s no beef. Just a_

_misunderstanding_

I’m not going to tell my friend otherwise.

_Cool. Should be fun then._

_I’ll send details later._

_For sure._

So that’s that then. I’m going to see Adrian again tomorrow. No big deal. I’ll just act normal towards him. I can’t ignore him, like I am tempted to, because our friends have noticed that there’s an issue between us. I need to act as if Adrian and I are cool with each other for their sake.

I should act as if that night we had never happened. That’s the best plan because I am never doing anymore gay shit. Not with Adrian or anyone else. 

Ox texts:

_If you’re bringing another_

_girl I should warn you that_

_some_ _of Monique’s_ _friends_

_are coming too_

That might work in my favor. Her friends will definitely rat on me and tell her that I lied about Mexico and was hanging out with someone else. That would save me from Monique’s thirstiness and whatever highly resistant STI strain she’s carrying.

I need to turn up with someone. I figure out who almost immediately. Hot. With an attitude. Highly unlikely to want to try it on with me.

When she answers I act extra casual. “Hey.”

“Deran?” Jen is surprised. 

“Yes.”

“So you meant to call me?”

”Yes. Why?”

”I thought it was a mistake.”

“Why?”

“Are you serious? Do you not remember what happened two years ago?”

I do. I’m not proud ... but it’s been two years. I thought she’d got over it by now. 

“Why are you calling me?”

Maybe she hasn’t yet. She sounds angry. 

“A bunch of us are going out to Trestles tomorrow. I thought you might wanna come with me?”

“You thought you’d invite your ex-girlfriend, who you dumped out of the blue and then avoided with no reasons given, and haven’t spoken to since, to hang out?”

They say honesty is the best policy so I say,

“I’m sorry about that. Seriously. I was an idiot. And immature. I feel bad about it, Jen. You deserved better. I think I wasn’t ready for a relationship.”

That was not the main problem with our relationship though. Even before Jen and I started seeing each other I suspected that I was not physically attracted to women. Being with Jen was a test to prove to myself that I could crave female intimacy. My friends kept reminding me how lucky I was to be with her.

I knew they were right but I couldn’t feel it. During our relationship, I would dread being alone with her because there was a chance that she would expect intimacy. I spent eleven months faking passion and lust that I did not feel. I was a fraud hiding within and behind a relationship that felt fake to me. I was exhausted and over time I started to feel resentful and guilty.

I was a shitty boyfriend. Inattentive. Avoidant. Always finding excuses to bail on her. That is when the truth of who I was struck me. So hard. 

“I didn’t know how good I had it.” I lie to her on the phone.

“What’s going on with you?” She asks sceptically.

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you calling me, now, after all this time?”

“I want to, I guess, I needed to, you know...”

“Is this some twelve-step programme thing? Are you making amends or something?”

“I guess. The amends part.” It’s a white lie. 

The line goes silent for a while. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Cody, and that I have a forgiving heart.”

“I am pretty damn cute.”

She giggles. “You’re also an asshole. And I am seeing someone. You should know that.”

“Oh.” 

“But I’m curious so… okay. I’ll come, but as a friend. That’s it. Deal?”

“Deal.” I fist pump the air.

“I can’t wait to bust your ass on the waves.” 

I smile. “Yeah. That’s not going to happen.”

+

It is beginning to get dark on the beach. We have spent the whole day here between the shore and the sea. I had forgotten how much fun Jen was, in a purely platonic way. It still does not make up for the fact that something is missing. Chemistry. Attraction. Desire. Something like that.

Adrian has not turned up. I keep checking to make sure. Every time a car pulls up to park by the beach, I look over to see who it is. Not Adrian. Not his beat-up wood-panelled station wagon that he loves despite it having a battery issue and being on its last legs. That piece of junk was his first ever big buy. Evidence of the blood, sweat and tears he put into his work at Real Surf. I remember how proud he was when we drove it out of a local used car place. I got my Scout brand-new about a month after that from money stolen from a bank heist. Our cars are symbols of the differences between us. Adrian is truthful, hardworking, and good even though that doesn’t get him half as much or as far as I do by being deceitful, lazy and bad. 

More cars arrive and more people flood the beach to join those of us who’ve been at Ox’s day out all day.

“Shall we get out of here?” Jen’s eyes are doing that thing they used to do when she wanted to get me naked. 

When did she put her arms around me?

“I don’t know.” I look around at the crowd. Many of them are friends or acquaintances. There’s laughter, eating and drinking, volleyball matches, skinny dipping as the sun sets. I wave at a group of friends that have just got here.

I am not really that keen to socialise here but it beats trying to avoid Jen’s sexual advances if we leave now. I did not think this through. This is like jumping out of Monique’s pan and into my ex’s fire.

“Things are getting good here.” I observe as someone starts to blast music from his car.

Jen whispers in my ear. “Things could get even better back at your place.”

I turn to her. “I thought you said you were seeing someone.” 

“Kind of. Not really. It’s not serious.” She rubs the tip of her nose against mine. She used to do that too. “Kind of like your hair this long.”

She strokes her hand through my still damp locks. I probably should get it cut. It’s half-way down my back. But I won’t chop it short like Adrian has. I liked his hair shoulder length but I think I like it even better short, the way he had it at the party. I wonder why he got it done? And when?

Jen kisses me. I am taken aback. I pull back right away. I do not want this. My mind is elsewhere. 

“What?” She asks as she holds onto my waist. “Isn’t this why you really called? I thought you wanted this.”

What I want is something I cannot have. I cannot talk about it. I cannot even think about it because then it becomes real.

“Yeah. But I’m thinking about Belize. It’s…” I sign an explosion going off with my hand. 

“Oh yeah! I heard that you’re competing. Are you freaking out about it?”

“I’m trying to stay focussed.”

“You shouldn’t be nervous. You were looking good today.”

“Thanks.” I nod. “Shall I get us drinks?”

She is confused by the change in subject. “Um, yeah, sure.”

“I’ll be right back.”

I head towards Ox who is busy flipping meat and sliced vegetables on two barbeque grills while jamming to a tune blasting from his car. I’d be surprised if the cops don’t show up soon to shut the noise down.

“Hey, have you heard from Adrian?” I ask him.

“What?”

“Adrian. He hasn’t come. I think his car’s broken down again.”

“Why don’t you call him?”

I don’t answer that and harden my expression, waiting for an answer.

“No. His car is fine, at least I think it is.” Ox flips the grilling food over the smoking embers. “I texted him earlier at ask where he was and he said they were coming. Then he texted back a couple of hours ago to say that they weren’t coming. Change of plans.”

“They?”

“Him and Brad. They were hanging out in town I think.”

“The dude who came to Craig’s party with him?”

“Yeah.” 

+

I have never felt so consumed by jealousy. I have lost all appetite for the party. Adrian’s with that over muscled pro-skateboarder dickhead. I want to go. Leave the party. I walk back to Jen. She looks at my empty hands. 

“Where are the drinks?”

I completely forgot about them. “I’m going to take off. Do you want me to drop you home or are you going to stay?”

“You don’t look okay.” Jen’s concerned.

“I’m fine. I’m just-” I rub my forehead. “I forgot I had to meet my brothers tonight.”

That is a half-truth. I was supposed to meet up with Craig earlier to scout for Smurf’s latest job but I always planned to bail on him and I have no intention to meet with any member of my family.

“That smells like a lie.” She mutters to me. “What’s really going on?”

I look at her. If he thinks that he can hook up with other people like nothing happened, then two can play that game. I pull Jen to me and kiss her. 

Fuck Adrian.

+

We get home and Jen is on me as I try to get the key in the lock and push the door open to my place. She strips me out of my t-shirt and drops it on the floor while leading me to my bedroom. I want to put the brakes on this even though I started it. I don’t want this, I just feel completely messed up in the head.

The lights are off as she pushes me onto the bed and climbs on top of me. She pulls her top off and unclasps her bra.

“Wait a second.” I whisper as she caresses me and plants kisses on me. She doesn’t stop though; her hand trails down my body. In a second she’ll see how much I am not into this. “Just give me a minute.”

I sit up and nearly jump in fright when I see my brother staring at us from a chair in the corner of the room. 

I gently push Jen off me as she scrambles to cover her tits from Pope’s unwavering gaze. 

“What the fuck?” She looks at him. “Pope?” 

“You shouldn’t leave your car unlocked if you’re going to fall asleep in it, man. That’s dangerous.” Pope says to me.

“What are you talking about?”

“Yesterday. Craig said he found you passed out at the beach in your car.”

“It was a nap and I’m still alive.” I turn to Jen. “Could you give us a minute?”

Pope adds, “I’m going to need you to leave now, Jen.”

“Leave?”

“The house. My brother’s not into you.”

She looks creeped out and leaves the room, slamming the door behind her. 

“Says who?” I argue with my brother as I sit up on the edge of my bed and hear the front door open and close a few moments later. 

A pile of dirty clothes that I had been dropping on the floor over the past few days is now in a basket. My fresh clothes have been folded into a neat pile on my desk. The overflowing ashtray near my bed has been emptied, the empty beer cans that lived by my bedside table are in a bin. 

Pope’s been housekeeping.

“You’re losing it, man.” He says deadpan.

I rub my eyes. That’s rich coming from Pope, my certified crazy brother, but he is right. I feel like I am on the edge and about to fall off it.

“Just because I’m doing my own thing and not jumping the minute Smurf says to?”

“No.” Pope’s back is as rod straight as a soldier. His hands are on his lap, palms down; still but primed for action. He always looks ready for a fight.

I glare at him and he looks back at me unflinchingly. “Okay. Good talk. If that is all you’ve got to say, then I’m going to try and get Jen to come back and...”

“You were supposed to meet Craig to scope the job today.”

“I told you all that I wasn’t doing it.” 

“Did you get the car?”

I sigh exasperatedly. “Nope.”

Pope is silent for a while. He is like a ghost when he is like this. Smurf’s henchman slash son. She has got him trained like a dog; completely wrapped around her finger. When has she ever prioritised him or any of her sons over her own needs? Is that too much to expect from our mother? We have all got a record because of her; all spent time locked up in juvie or jail after carrying out her dirty work. We are the fucked up people we are today as a result of how she raised us.

“I’m leaving for Belize in a week.” I say to begin explaining how I feel.

“That’s fine. The job is in 3 days’ time.”

“What if something goes wrong. We could get caught or hurt.”

Pope does not seem to compute that. “Won’t happen. The plan is solid.”

“The plan was solid last time and look what happened.” I point at the wound he stitched up on my arm following our last heist. “It could have been worse. I don’t want to end up behind bars or shot. I have a real chance at the competition, man.”

Pope pauses. He’s conflicted because he was the one, not our mom, who encouraged me to pursue surfing. He would drive me to junior competitions and act as a one-man fan club while Smurf claimed that I was dreaming too big.

“You know she won’t let you get out of it.” He says eventually.

“None of us should do it.” I reason. “That’s my point. We aren’t kids anymore. Why are we letting her treat us like we are.”

“Okay, genius. How are we going to make money then?”

“The way normal people do.” I retort. “We get jobs. Maybe manage properties for real. If things work out then I’ll have enough from surfing to never need to work again.”

It is as though I am speaking a foreign language. Pope looks at me as if what I have just said is complete nonsense. “What do you want me to tell Smurf?”

“Tell her that I am not changing my mind. I have told Craig and now I am telling you. I’m not doing it. And tell her that if she’s planning to send Baz next, not to bother.”

+

I wake up the next day feeling groggy and alone. I have never felt this lonely in my life.

I open the fridge to take out my new best friend but there is no beer in there. I go to my room and open the top drawer of my bedside cabinet, then search behind some books in the living room bookshelf. 

Pope. He cleared out my stash of booze and weed yesterday. I text him.

_You threw out my shit?_

_You owe me $500. Asshole._

I make myself a triple shot of coffee as I study my phone. I imagine making a call that I am desperate to make.

 _“Hey. Sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner. I’ve been swamped.”_ Boozing and getting high and shit. _“I don’t know how to handle what I’m feeling and I can’t figure out the right thing to do. But what I know is that I liked it. A lot. And I don’t want to never see you again.”_

I don’t even feel like surfing today and that’s saying something. I think I’ll stay in and blitz myself out after scoring some weed from Julio next door. But the universe has other plans. 

Keys jangle in the door and the next minute Smurf casually saunters into the living room. I should have known that when I told Pope to let her know that I wasn’t going to do the job and be persuaded by Baz, she would find the loophole.

It’s a hot day- I’m in shorts and sandals sweating balls on my sofa- but she is dressed for autumn in a leather jacket, jeans and thick boots, looking ice cold. Sunglasses cover her penetrating blue eyes. Eyes that I have inherited. 

“Hey, baby.” She says in the softest, sweetest voice. On the surface, she looks concerned for me but I know her too well. She only cares that I have disrespected her and not followed her orders.

She takes her sunglasses off as she takes a seat next to me.

I nod. “Smurf.”

A thought flashes through my mind. My mom is tiny, lightweight. It would be easy to grab her by the throat and keep squeezing until life left her body.

She gently touches my hair, starts to stroke it. “I’m worried about you. We all are.”

I scoff. “Why?”

“Your brothers tell me that you are drinking too much. Smoking too much. You’re avoiding them and acting off.”

“Craig’s always high. Pope’s a nut case. Baz pushes back against you all the time.”

“Yes. But you don’t do those things normally. You’re my little baby lambchop. What’s upsetting you?”

I shake my head. “Nothing.”

I know that she knows that I am lying. Her fingers stop combing through my over-long greasy hair.

“I wanted you to come home to see me. You missed breakfast and dinner.”

“I’d eaten.”

She touches my cheek with her bony, bejewelled and manicured hand. “I miss you, baby. You’ve been so distant lately.” 

She sighs when I do not reply. 

“I’ve been busy.” I pull away.

“You know that you can tell me anything, don't you? What's eating at you?”

I hate her.

I hate her with a passion.

I hate that she can read me so well and that she is right 99% of the time.

She looks at me sympathetically and forces my head against her fake breasts; lets me rest there against her like I did when I was six or seven. 

I don’t know why but I begin to sob, like big baby tears.

+

I never planned on falling asleep but I did. I guess my body finally gave in to the self-medication and lack of sleep from the past few days.

As I sit up on my sofa my body feels like it has been through nine rounds in the ring but my mind feels strangely still and calm and decided. Smurf’s gone but she’s left me a message on a scrap piece of paper.

_I’ve cleaned out your fridge and stocked it up with some food. There’s a piece of pie in the microwave. Just heat it up for two minutes. Craig is expecting you in Encinitas at 3pm. He’ll send you the coordinates. Don't worry about the car. Pope said he'd do it. Love you baby xxx_

I pick it up and crush it in my fist before lobbing it into the trach can. I have decided what I need to do and her note has spurred me on. I grab my phone and call my contact.

“Hey, Joe. There might be a change of plan. Just want to make sure you're cool with it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up, Adrian and Deran reunite.


	6. Off Grid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrian's POV

I have persuaded Tao to give me an hour-long break. It was easy enough because of all the extra time I have been putting into work recently. I take a right through a leafy, quiet suburban neighbourhood that is so different to where I now live. As I drive down a familiar street and approach my destination, my nerves kick in. I park next to a house on the left side of the road, with a dark blue front door and leaning palm tree. 

Dad’s car is not here. Perfect. That is why I picked this time of day to come. I jump out of my car, quickly walk towards my childhood family home and knock. Looks like mom’s not in either. We talk a bunch, but it has been a couple of months since I last saw her despite living in the same town. I would have loved to see her today, but I can do without hearing her try to persuade me that ‘your dad just needs more time to accept and understand it’. I am done with tolerating the homophobic prick. 

I use my copy of the keys to get in and go straight to my old bedroom upstairs. It is different to how it was when I was a kid. I find my travel backpack and camping gear crammed in a closet with the rest of my things that either mom or I have saved from my childhood. My dad has taken over the rest of the room with his biker stuff, fishing equipment and bench with weights. 

I leave the house as quickly as I arrived. Before setting off I fire off a quick text to my mom.

_Hi mom. Just wanted to remind you_

_that I’m leaving next Tuesday._

_Love you x_

She texts back almost straight away.

_I hope that’s not your goodbye!_

_I want to see you before Belize._

_Why don’t you come over for_

_dinner before you go? You’ve got_

_to get your travel bag anyway. You_

_left it after you and Jess went trekking._

_I’ve got it already but I’ll_

_see if I can make it_

_Okay. I’ll call you later. I_

_miss you xxxxxxx_

I love my mom, but I am not coming back home if dad is going to be here. 

+

The surf shop is busy, so I keep getting pulled out away from my workroom, to help in the store which is at the front. It is distracting and jarring to move out of the stuffy, hot, dark into the light, air-conditioned shop area. By mid-afternoon, the crowd settles enough to mean I can get back to the workroom. 

I spend the rest of my shift back there, with my t-shirt acting as a head scarf to keep sweat out of my eyes and face protection on while working on two boards. I spray paint the first board.

Creating the look of a board, its personality, is an art and a science; trying to get a match for the original color, then embellishing it by blending new tones and using free hand and stencils to get a design the surfer likes. It is satisfying to do but even more rewarding when I get to the finished product.

I put that board to one side and start working on the design of the second board which I painted earlier in the day and has now dried. I apply a stencil design to it, spray over it then carefully remove the stencil, leaving the design of black seagulls in flight on a corner of the board.

“Hi.”

I look up and do a double take.

It’s Deran.

“Hi.” I take off my face mask.

It has only been a few days since I last saw him but it’s like he’s been through a lot. He looks unsettled, on edge and tired. His eyes are sunken and startled. His hair is pulled into a low knotted ponytail. Like the rest of him, it looks in need of attention. 

“Do you have a minute?”

I should tell him ‘no’. I do not owe him my time. His silent treatment after I came out to him and after we hooked up has made me feel like scum. A mistake that he is trying to bury and ignore. His reaction made me feel the way dad has over the years. The distancing and recoiling away from me. The rejection and avoidance. 

“I’m in the middle of something.” 

My hands shake when I pick up the next stencil. It is a physical manifestation of my anger and upset. I give up trying to place it next to the pattern I have already applied and lean on my worktable instead, pressing my hands against its wood surface. 

I sigh. “Make it quick.”

He takes a step into the workroom. “I want to ask you something.” He swallows nervously. “I’ve got us plane tickets for tonight to go to Belize. The plane leaves at 8.35.” He rephases his statement into a question. “Will you come with me?”

I must have misheard him. His sponsor has already paid for his travel and accommodation to the competition. He is supposed to be flying out in four days’ time to allow a few days to test the waters before the competition starts. The rest of us have booked tickets on another flight that gets there two days before.

“You did what?”

“I brought my flight forward and bought you a new ticket.” He looks desperate and uncertain at the same time. “Come. Please.” 

He must be mad. Has he forgotten where we left things? The last time I saw him he tried sneaking out of my house to avoid seeing me. He has ignored my texts and calls since then. What makes him think that I’ll fly out on vacation with him without an explanation?

“You’ve bought tickets for everyone?”

“No. Just you and me.” 

He is joking. 

Must be.

A sick joke.

“Who with?”

“Still American Airlines. Gates close just after eight.”

He takes a printed boarding pass out of his pocket and places it on my worktop. It has my name on it. _Adrian Dolan_. I am shocked in disbelief. 

He is serious. 

“I’ve been a shit friend.”

Friend. Is that what he is calling what we are? And honestly I am tired of this confession of his. This is a _déjà vu_ of what he said when we hung out a few days ago.

"Change the record." I hiss.

"I know I've been all over the place." He rubs his palms together nervously then shoves them into the pockets of his board shorts. “I know that. I’ve just,... I've had a lot on my mind.”

I cannot believe his nerve. “We all have stuff going on.”

“Yeah. But you don’t have a family like mine, like my mom-” he stops himself, as if realising he’s about to say something he shouldn’t. “They don’t get me. They don’t care about trying to get me.”

“What has that got to do with me coming to Belize with you?” 

I want him to talk; to say what I think I have figured out but that he either hasn’t or won’t admit to.

“I don’t know.” He shakes his head, disappointed but accepting of my sharp, impatient tone. He is tired and defeated. He expected this reaction from me. “I can’t stay here right now. I need to get out of O’side. I need to clear my head.” Great. So, it is all about him. He clenches his hands into fists and takes a breath. “And I want you to be there with me. Just you.”

His words hang in the space between us. Suspended but not yet received. _Just you_. I do not believe him. Not when his actions have spoken a different truth. I am too hurt to trust him. I am not ready to be stung by him yet again.

He rounds the table and breaches my personal space. I am reminded of the fact that my t-shirt is on my head when I feel the heat of his body so close to mine. 

“It’s easier when it’s just us.” He whispers.

I want to disagree, but I get what he means. I would not use the word ‘easy’ though. I would say simple. It is simple when it is only me and him. Recently, it has been the only way he has acted openly with me, with no external influences or expectations. No bullshit. 

His hand touches my face gently and his thumb scrapes my cheek. His eyes track his movements. Possessively. He does not need to say a word for me to get exactly what he is communicating. His eyes open up to me. I can read his soul. I feel the heat of his body and the strength of his desire. I feel pulled to him even though I do not want to. Even though I want to tell him that we cannot exist in a bubble because couples or relationships or whatever he wants this to be, do not survive in a vacuum. 

He is too irresistible to me though. I smell the familiar scent of his minty cigarette breath and inhale it, ready for the press of his lips against mine.

We hear a deliberate cough and jump apart. Together we face the door. Tao is staring at us. He is smart enough to act like he saw nothing. In some ways that is true- he saw a dude touching another dude’s cheek- but a blind man would see the tension in the room.

Deran backs away from me. “Hey Tao!” They fist bump. “You cool, man?” He smiles at my boss, guard up, mask on. 

Bro-Deran. ‘No homo’ Deran.

“Yeah. You?”

“Adrian got some shit stuck in his eye. Dust.” He indicates the air in the room. “I was helping get it out. I’ve told him to wear eye protection next time.”

Lying Deran. 

I unwrap my top from my head and put it on. Tao smiles knowingly at us. There isn’t a speck of dust in the room because today has been a painting and decorating day. 

“Whatever, dude.” Tao raises an eyebrow as he looks between Deran, me and the ticket on my worktop. “None of my business.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Deran looks angry. He faces up to Tao, menacingly. 

Tao does not cower in fear. “Chill, man. I’ve come to tell Ade that he’s over timed again.”

I look at the wall clock. I had not even realised I had gone over today.

“And that Brad’s here. Again. He’s waiting round the front.” Tao adds. The corner of Deran’s mouth twitches then his jaw sets into a hard line. “I wasn’t sure if you were expecting him this time. I could tell him you’ve left but your car’s still here.” He darts a glance at Deran.

Brad. I do not know what I am doing with him, but I recognise that he is a temporary plaster not a permanent solution. He is a nice guy. Hot. He is partly filling a void in my life, but how I feel when I am with him is incomparable to how I feel with Deran. I must acknowledge that. On the other hand, there are no secrets with Brad. No question about what he wants from me. No excuses made when he is caught making a public display of affection in front of my boss. No running away from his desire and feelings. No internal conflict or internal demons that Deran seems to be fighting against. With Brad things are simpler; not just when we are alone. 

“I’ll be out in a second.” I tell Tao. “I was just saying bye to Deran. He’s flying out to Belize tonight to get extra practice time at Long Caye before the competition in a week’s time.”

“Nice. That’s a great part of the world.” Tao says. “Make sure you check out the coral reef when you’re out there.” 

“Yeah.” Deran’s jaw hardens even more, so much so that I worry that he will break a tooth. 

"I'm heading out next week." I say to make my point crystal clear.

Deran’s face falls. If I did not know him better, I would say he looks upset. His eyes are glassy. It cannot be that big of a deal to him that I will not go with him.

“Okay.” He mutters. “I better get going then. Or I'll be late.”

“You good for boards, by the way?” Tao asks him.

“Yeah. Sponsor’s sorted it. Thanks.” He backs up quickly and leaves through the back of the shop, without looking at me or saying goodbye.

“Breaking hearts, there, Ade?” 

“No.” 

Tao throws me the shop’s keys. “If you say so. Lock up when you’re done, will you? I’m going home.”

+

I want a happy, simple, drama-free life. The last couple of months have felt far from that. When I get to the empty front part of the shop, I greet Brad with a passionate kiss. I hope this- being with him- will get me back to that feeling. He pulls back just long enough to grin at me then pulls me in for more.

“Hi.” He whispers with a cheeky, conspiratorial grin.

“Hi.” 

He is a better fit than Deran. I need someone who is not ashamed. Someone who does not make me feel like dirt. I have had enough of that from my dad and my so-called best friend.

“Forgot my house keys!” Tao walks into the room and grabs some keys from the top of the cash register. He pauses long enough to read the room. “Get a room, fellas.” He mutters before leaving again.

“You read my mind, Tao. Thank you.” Brad calls after him, as he squeezes my butt. He frowns at the sound of paper crunching. “What’s that?”

I slipped the boarding pass into my pocket. “Nothing. Receipts.” 

I should have thrown it away straight away. I do not know why I am holding onto it or thinking about how I could still make the flight with forty minutes to spare if I left now.

“I was thinking we could hang out at mine tonight.” Brad says. “Unless you had other ideas.”

“Sounds cool.”

Why do I feel sad? Why am I thinking about Deran making that flight alone, with an empty seat next to him? What had he planned for us anyway? What did he expect to happen if we went to Belize together before everyone else? Was he trying to get us back to being friends or was he going to see where things could progress to? 

Brad and I walk out of the shop towards our cars.

“I’ll order pizzas and pick them up on the way. What topping do you want?”

“Same as always.” 

He smiles. “See you at home then. Spare set of keys are in the same spot if the back door is locked.” 

I feel the folded boarding pass in my shorts and force a smile. “Yeah, okay. See you soon.”

+

Brad rings me about an hour later. I look at my phone but do not answer. I am a dick. I owe him an explanation for why I did not show up at his place, but I cannot bring myself to face up to it just yet. I fully intended to go but then I drove halfway there and changed direction; literally and figuratively. I did not choose him. I have done the right thing. I know it. I cannot be with him. In another life he could have made me happy but not in this one. I like him but not enough. He is a great guy. Just not my guy.

I turned the car around and went back to where I feel I need to be right now. To peace and quiet. To somewhere where I can be with my thoughts if I want to or escape from them. I pick up my face mask, place the stencil on the unfinished board that I was working on earlier and get back to spray painting it.

+

_One week later…_

Ox, Colby, Moss, and I landed in Belmopan on Belize’s mainland, a couple of hours ago. We then took a taxi to the east facing coast of the country and boarded a speedboat to get us 40 miles out, to a 14-acre private island which is home to the resort we will be staying at for the next two weeks. 

As the boat cuts through the blue clear water with tropical sun beating down on us, and not a cloud in the sky, this feels like another world. 

Ox turns to me with a huge smile on his face, “Dude, look at what you would have missed if you bailed out on us!” 

He points around us and lets out a carefree shout of joy.

I cannot help but laugh. He is right. I nearly did not come. I told the guys that Tao had asked for help in the shop and that I needed money to fund staying in school more than I needed a vacation. That was a lie. The truth is I was not sure whether I should come after how Deran and I left things. It felt like a bad recipe for an idyllic vacation. The tension would be stupid, and I had visions of the whole thing being a total downer. In the end, I came because I realised that I was not the one in the wrong, so why was I talking myself out of a summer break that I was entitled to? I have paid for my tickets, so I was going to go on it. I just must figure out how I am going to negotiate round the shit going on between Deran and me. 

The boat docks at the Island resort’s pier where we are welcomed by a local man and host called Joe. He acts as though he will be our personal guide to the island. From the minute he opens his mouth, he doesn’t stop talking as he leads us down the wooden path towards the sand with a smile on his face and a spring in his step. 

“You’ll love your vacation, gentlemen! You'll wish you booked an extra week when the time comes to leave us, believe me. We’ve got diving, fishing, snorkelling, a spa. We have the best beaches in the world and the clearest waters. Do any of your surf?"

Moss points at me. “Other than Deran, only Ade surfs seriously.”

Joe looks at me strangely. “Oh. You’re Adrian Dolan?”

What is that supposed to mean? Why is he saying my name like that?

"Yeah. Why?"

"Putting a face to a name, is all. You, my man, will definitely want to check out the spa to get one of our deep tissue massages by one of our expert masseuses after you spend a day surfing. Ask Deran. He's had one. You won’t regret it!”

“Ok. Cool.” 

I stare at him curiously. It's like he's high but I think it's just his personality. He continues his speech as we follow him. “Over there is where the best surf in the world is, although I may be bias! Long Caye. Your friend Deran's there as we speak.” Joe points out to sea, at a solitary speck of green and white land in the middle of the ocean. 

“Can you stay on Long Caye?” Moss asks.

“Short answer is no. There are some private residences so it’s not easy to get a reservation there!” He laughs at his non-existent joke. “Anyway, there will be water taxis to get you there and back on the competition days if you plan to spectate. After the competition if you want to go there, you can hire jet skis from reception. Oh, and make sure you save time in your itinerary to visit the Great Blue Hole. It is just 5 kilometres away and full of corals and varieties of fish and plants that you’ll only see in this part of the world. It is part of the Belize Barrier Reef and a UNESCO World Heritage Site so we are very keen to preserve its natural beauty. Spaces are limited so please book early.”

This guy is a lot. 

He leads us up to one of the smaller sea facing villas. Deran rented it using his sponsor money. It is supposed to house him but he generously invited us to stay with him so that we could save money. It's pretty awesome with white beaches and blue water at its doorstep. It’s external architecture is rustic enough to blend into the surrounding yet even from here I can tell that it is built to an exacting finish.

“Deran has asked me to show you around the place.” Joe says. He walks us through the villa’s ample front porch, with casual chairs and a firepit and unlocks the front door. “There's some fruit and drinks inside if you're hungry but Deran's asked me to tell you that he'd be back soon and that he’s booked dinner on the beach for you all.”

Colby smiles. “Boss.”

I am last to step inside, carrying my rucksack on my back. This is an example of island decadence. The living space is large and airy and filled with details that recall Island life; large ear-shaped shells for decor, white wispy-thin translucent curtains, large windows. Understated yet dripping in luxury. How much of the budget did Deran blow on this?

I feel like an imposter, like I have lost the right to stay here. I am not sure that Deran’s hospitality extends to me anymore.

“How many bedrooms are there?” I ask.

“Two, but we’ve made it work for you all.” Joe walks us through the living room, kitchen and bar area, games room, and common bathroom.

“This is the first bedroom.” He indicates a large room with twin double beds and a single fold out bed. "For three of you."

The guys muscle in and quickly claim a bed each by sitting or jumping on the mattresses with their luggage.

I swear they are like children. 

“You snooze you lose, bro!” Moss grins as he spreads himself out on the fold out.

“Fuck you guys.” I say.

“Guess you’re with Deran.” Moss says gleefully.

”I’ll swap with you. You can’t even fit on that bed.” I tell him.

“I’ll make it work!” He doesn’t look comfortable; like a Pretzel all folded up in the small bed. 

“Don't worry. You've got the better deal. The other room is the master.” Joe pats me on the shoulder. “We’ve put two double beds in there. Do you want me to show you?”

“Yeah! Let him show you, dude.” Colby tells me as he lounges in his bed. “Good luck!”

“No.” I feel my throat close and my stomach fills with butterflies. 

Ox laughs. “I knew it! You’ve got beef with Deran!” 

“I don’t. We had a misunderstanding for a second.” 

“That’s what he said but I’m not buying it. Is he being a dick to you for you being gay? Is that it?”

“We’ll have words.” Moss adds.

“It’s not like that. It's just-” I try to think up a reason to tell them for not wanting to share a room with Deran. “He’s wound up too tight at the moment. Why don’t you share with him, Ox. You bunked together in juvie.”

“Nah.” He replies. “I want to chill. I can't deal with him recently.” 

“It’s probably the competition. Shit's stressful.” Colby says. “He’ll be fine once the first heat is over.”

“Why don't you share a room with him then?” Moss suggests. I nod vigorously in agreement.

Colby laughs. “Hell no.”

Joe leads me back through a corridor and across the large living room.

He opens the door on the opposite end and steps inside. 

“Here you go.” I stop at the door’s threshold. “Come in.”

To not appear weird, I do. This bedroom is much nicer than the other one. More space. More light. It has direct access to a private garden which is accessible from one end of the room through floor-to-ceiling bifold glass doors. The doors are open now. A breeze filters in and ruffles the feather light sheer curtains that flank the doors. I could have never imagined a place where you could leave your door open and expect to find your things when you come back. The fact that Deran of all people feels comfortable doing it is mind blowing.

The perimeter of the garden is marked by bamboo screening and its white sand is broken up by a babbling water feature, rockery, a clutch of large leaning palm trees to offer shade and two hammocks.

I put my rucksack on the bed closest to the garden since it’s the only part of the room that doesn’t seem to have Deran’s things on it. 

“As you can see, you have your own garden if you feel like having some private outdoor moments. It’s not overlooked.” Joe says behind me. “Your en suite bathroom is through there.” He indicates a closed door that is directly opposite my bed. ”It’s got a jacuzzi.”

I get a vision of me lying in bed tonight, staring at Deran as he brushes his teeth in the bathroom and ignores my presence. I see myself pretending to be asleep to avoid any awkwardness. Too nervous to doze off. Too knotted up to speak. Too self-conscious to go commando as I normally would in bed.

“That’s nice.” I tell Joe.

“I’ll leave you to settle in but please do not hesitate to reach me when you need. Just use your phone and dial 0 for the reception desk.”

When Joe leaves, I bolt out of Deran’s bedroom. I take my travel bag to the living room and place it by the couch. I am sure it will be comfortable enough to sleep on.

+

Deran doesn’t get back as quickly as promised so Ox, Colby, Moss and I decide to fill our time exploring the island while drinking local brand beer and then hit the beach for a swim. I finally collapse into a deck chair and soak up some sun while the other guys get chatting to a group of girls. 

At some point I must have fallen asleep because Moss jabs me in the ribs and says,

“Yo, wake up. Time for food!”

I rub my eyes. “Deran’s back?”

“Yup.”

Shit.

+

Dinner is as awkward as I imagined it would be. Deran and I barely exchange words. We say just enough to each other, and with enough warmth, to avoid comments from our friends.

It gives me a chance to notice that he looks much better than he did in the surf shop a week ago. The past few days have been good for him. His waxy, pale complexion has been replaced by a healthier one. It's probably thanks to the tropical weather and getting some rest. The bags under his eyes have gone and he is more put together. He does not look like he is one degree removed from a homeless man anymore although his hair is still ridiculously long. He's got it in a man bun; must be how he's decided to manage it. I am not sure how it’s not a hazard in the water.

By the time we get back to the villa, the sun has set. Only the porch string lights and the moon offer visibility outdoors. 

We decide to take it easy tonight since we’re exhausted by surf or travel. Late night beers on the porch and talking. Mainly about how beautiful Belize is. Partly about our itinerary of things we ought to do while we are here. Then we turn the talk to surfing.

“How are you feeling about it?” Colby asks Deran. 

Deran digs into his pockets to get a smoke. I smile when he pulls out a pre-rolled blunt out of a pack of cigarettes. He lights it up, puffs on it and passes it along to Colby. He is staring at me, which makes me realise that I must be staring back, so I look away.

“Good.” He says. “Competition is stiff though. Connor is killing it this year. He smoked me and Klein in Durban and he’s been owning the water today. I guess I’ve got one more day to find my zone.”

“You’re in the zone! Remember, you got to the finals in Sydney. I heard the waves there were ridiculous.” Moss says. “Harder than these ones.”

“True.”

“Are you going to try to catch some waves, Ade?” Ox asks.

“Maybe after the crowd dies down after the competition. Would be wild.” 

”You should take him, Deran.” Colby suggests.

He hesitates on taking a drag from his blunt before saying. “Sure. If he wants.”

“Three days then let’s get wild, guys!” Moss is getting hyped. “The girls were saying that the clubs here are sick! We’ve got to go to the mainland!”

“Hell yeah!” Ox chips in.

“Dude, I’m not going to the mainland when there are the sickest waves in Central America 5 miles away.” I say.

“Fine. You and Deran can go surfing while we get acquainted with the _local culture_.” If _culture_ is substituted with _women_ then Moss’s sentence becomes accurate.

“I’m sure we’ll all have fun.” Deran drawls. “There’s something for everyone.”

I glance at him. He is looking back at me. Awkward. 

“True.” Colby passes the blunt to Moss. “By the way, I thought Craig was coming?”

“Don’t know. It wasn’t definite. He’s probably doing lines off some girl’s ass somewhere.” Deran seems entirely unbothered by the absence of his closest brother. “I haven’t spoken to him recently.” 

“Why?” I ask.

“I’ve turned my phone off. I don’t know what anyone is doing.”

“Damn. Off grid.” Moss says. Ox waves off his offer of a hit so Moss passes the joint to me and says, “I couldn’t do that.”

Deran sighs with relief. “Feels great. I feel free.”

“Ade, maybe you should do the same.” Ox is grinning. “It would get Brad off your case!”

I inhale sharply on the blunt at the mention of Brad’s name, taking in a lungful of its irritant smoke. I cough as my heart stutters. Deran’s cheek twitches. He leans forward slightly. I drink my beer to clear my throat then take another hit of the blunt.

“What happened?” Deran asks.

“They broke up.” Ox says. “But Brad’s a persistent motherfucker. He’s been trying to get back with our boy and shit.”

“We weren’t together.” I clarify. Damn. This weed is strong. I lean back in my chair as I feel the early calming effects of it and take another drag.

“Could have fooled me.” Ox says. “Thought you’d be introducing him as your boyfriend soon.”

“Can we talk about something else?” I ask.

“Like how you’re hogging the j!” Moss says. My smile tells him to eat shit, but I pass it on to him anyway. He grins and passes it straight to Deran. “You look like you need it more than I do. Don’t stress, dude. You’ll nail it on the day.”

“I’m not worried about surfing.” Deran stands up suddenly. “But it’s been a long day. I think I’m going to call it a night.”

I watch as he takes a final hit. The red glow of the embers at the tip of the blunt burn brighter as he inhales. Then he blows a slow steady cloud of smoke out of his nose and mouth in my general direction and gives me the last bit of it. 

“Here. You can finish it.”

+

I am the last to go indoors.

When I do, the house is quiet. They must have all gone to sleep already. The couch in the living room sucks. No matter what position I lie in, it’s torture. It’s bumpy as hell. And it’s too short so my legs hang over one end while my head is flexed practically at a right angle on the armrest at the other end.

I give up. I get up and go to my rucksack, unroll the camping mat that I brought along with me and lay it on the floor.

“What are you doing?”

I look up in the direction of Deran’s hushed voice. It is dark but a bluish glow bathes the room from the night’s light pulling in from the windows. I can make out his silhouette as he stands by his bedroom door in boxer shorts, wide awake, and looking at me like I have gone mad.

“Trying to get some sleep.”

He points into his room. “There’s a bed in here with your name on it.”

“I’m fine.”

He sighs. “Don’t be difficult.”

“I’m not.”

“Okay.” He turns to go back into his room but hesitates. “I don’t want this to be weird. I want us to have a good time.”

He closes the door behind him. I feel like an immature brat, sitting cross legged on a half-inch thick overused mat when I could be lying in comfort in a luxury bed. I was worried that Deran would be vindictive, but he isn’t.

I stand up and carry my bag and mat into his room.

He stares at me silently as I walk past his bed to mine. I pull back the softest bed sheets I think I have ever touched and get in.

After a few minutes of staying stock still, with my hands holding the sheets up to my chin and my eyes fixed to the rotating ceiling fan above us, I look over at him. His eyes are closed, and his breathing has evened out. He must be exhausted to fall asleep so quickly. I slowly and as quietly as possible, get out of my t-shirt and boxers under the covers. In this heat, there is no way I will sleep any other way. I gently kick my clothes out of the bed and turn to my side, towards his bed. It is crazy how close he is. If I leaned over and reached out my hand, I could touch him.

“Good night.” He whispers, into the night, his eyes still closed.

He wasn’t asleep.

I turn away from him and stare out towards the garden.

“Good night.”


	7. Pre-Competition Ritual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deran's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for continuing to read this.

“Hey.”

It’s the middle of the night so I have not woken up enough to realise someone is trying to talk to me. I feel a nudge against my rib cage so my primal instincts kick in. I sit up and, like a reflex, I grab the hand that touched me and squeeze the fingers firmly enough to inflict pain but not cause harm. My eyes open wide and my heart beats quickly in my chest. I am ready for an attack.

“Wait! Stop! It’s me.”

I recognise Adrian’s voice instantly and release my grip. My eyes adjust to the darkness until I recognise his familiar face. He has doubt written all over it.

“It’s me.” He repeats again as he sits on my bed, shuffles up closer to me and touches a soothing hand to my cheek.

I still can’t believe he’s here. After he rejected my ticket, I was sure he would decide not to come on vacation. I am glad he has though. There is hope. 

“Hey.” I clear the sleep from my throat. “You shouldn’t do that.”

“Sorry.” He pulls his hand away.

“I mean, surprise me when I’m sleeping.” I look him over, wondering why he’s woken me up. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

He does not move though. He chews on his lip and stares at me. “You know what you were saying earlier, I don’t want to make things weird either.”

He tentatively touches my cheek again then traces his fingers down to my neck. They settle over my pulse before trailing further down to my chest. 

Without a word or a warning, he leans down towards me.

My breath hitches in anticipation. I’m surprised. He’s going to kiss me. I didn’t think he’d want to after everything. I didn’t know how much I craved this vibe from him until this moment. I want it with every fibre of my being. I ache with the need for it. He doesn’t kiss me though. He suspends this moment in time; this agony of close but not close enough. He allows me his heat. His smell. His strength. His gaze at point blank range with mine. His inhaled breath. Only that. Our mouths remain millimetres apart. 

His eyes close heavily as his forehead leans against mine and he licks his lips. He is the cruelest tease. He breathes out minty breath, slowly as his hands come to rest either side of me. What is he waiting for? Why has he stalled? I’ll kiss him if that is what he wants. Is that what he wants? Okay then. 

I lean up until our mouths touch. I savour a brief taste of heaven. Just as quickly, he pulls back leaving me confused and hungering for more. It takes a second to understand what he’s doing. His eyes are daring me. He wants me to show him that I want him. He wants there to be no mistaking the fact that I am the one making an active decision to do this with him. 

I’ll show him. My hands comb through his hair. I gently pull him back to me so that he can forget about playing his cat and mouse ‘will he/ won’t he’ kissing game. I want to kiss him; consume him completely. Savagely. But I kiss him tenderly instead. 

I want him to forgive me. I want him to stay here in this bed with me. I want us to be good again. I don’t want his cold shoulder. I don’t want him to look at me the way he has been since he got to the island; with distance and distrust. 

My kiss is to show him that I like him. 

He kisses me back and it feels like a second or is it third chance. He reaches for my thin bedsheet that separates us as he deepens our kiss. He lifts it up and pushes it down my body. His hand stops when it goes low enough to nudge my hard cock as it tents my boxers and the bed sheet over them. I kiss him harder when he grips it through the fabric. I moan against his lips. I never expected a kiss but now I wish he gave me so much more. 

“Do you want me to do what I did last time?” He whispers it so quietly that I have to read his lips to get his full meaning.

My mind is foggy with lust. And confusion. Adrian is head strong. Not easily swayed or changed without being given a good enough reason. I expected to be given shit for how I behaved like how he did at Real Surf. This is so much easier than I expected.

But I can’t think about that right now. Not when his words offer something I can’t refuse. Not when I am having to concentrate on his inviting warm mouth against my lips, promising even more passionate kisses or when his hand is insistent and tantalising on my cock.

“Yes.” I whisper.

I hear the word echo in the room. My voice is coarse, husky and demanding. 

I repeat myself. “Yes.” 

I wake up. I really wake up this time, knowing I said that word out loud. I squint as I slowly open my eyes. They are welcomed by the morning tropical sun streaming through the bedroom’s sliding doors. I sit up gingerly, stiff from too many hours on the water. I am worked up and horny. Unfulfilled. 

I didn’t wake Adrian up. Thank fuck. He is still fast asleep. The real version of my fantasy; lying on his stomach, breathing softly, his face calm and resting as one of his legs hangs off the mattress and the upper half of his toned body is exposed. His white bed sheet shapes out the silhouette of his lower half, highlighting the curves and angles of his body. 

I look down in shame. I am sporting wood. What the hell? I go to the bathroom, careful to cover my hard on just in case. I jump in the shower and take care of it. The shower gel is my lube, the echo of my fantasy with Adrian is my motivation and the shower water washes away the evidence of my desire. 

Once I’m done showering I decide to start my day, hit the waves once again even though it is still just after dawn.

I’m doing this to give Adrian space and time. I am not sure how long I can stick around him before wanting to put pressure on him. I need to allow him the space to choose the relationship he wants with me and I have to accept whatever his decision is.

One small problem though. I’m not sure these are things a Cody can do.

+

“Deran!” Joe is jogging towards me as I walk up the pier towards the jet skis.

I stop to allow him to catch up. “Hi.”

“Not having breakfast?”

“I’ll grab something at Long Caye.”

“Are you off to catch some- what do you call them again- swells before tomorrow?”

I smile. “Yes.”

“Hardest working surfer I know.”

“I want to do my best.” 

The truth is I want to demolish this competition. I want to show my family that I can ace something without their help or support. I need to prove to myself that I am more than the bottom feeding common criminal that I was raised to be. 

“I just wanted to let you know that you’ve been reimbursed for the activities you booked onto last week because your friend, Adrian, couldn’t make it.”

That would be the private diving trip to the coral reef, the night time fishing trip and the jet ski ride with lunch at the lighthouse.

“Well except the diving. That was only 50% reimbursed as we discussed.” Joe adds. 

“Yeah. Whatever. Fine. Thanks.” I say. 

I have no idea what Joe has made of this situation. When I called him to see whether it was okay to come out earlier than planned with a friend and I booked stuff for Adrian and I to do, he made it happen. He asked no questions when I then turned up on my own and asked him to cancel the reservations. 

“Now that he’s here, did you want to rebook any of them for the two of you?” Joe asks. 

I hesitate. I do not want to give him the idea that Adrian is different from my other friends, closer or more special in any way. I don’t want that to be obvious. I don’t want Joe or anyone to know.

“No. They’re all here now. I’ll let you know what we’ve decided to do when I speak to everyone.”

“Okay.” Joe is in no rush to leave. “Was it a surprise for his birthday or another celebration? If so, we have some great surprise packages I can talk you through.”

“I said no! Fuck!”

Joe’s reaction tells me that I have overreacted; raised my voice unnecessarily.

“Forget it. Please.” I say with more calm.

“Okay. No worries. I won’t keep you then. You’re busy.” He starts to leave. 

I guess I stopped being fun.

“Hey.” I say. He faces me hesitantly. “Do you reckon you could get me some more island greens? Got to stay healthy.” I test a smile on him. An olive branch. “Please.”

“Sure. For your friends too?”

“Yes.”

“No problem. I’ll leave them in the kitchen, in the cabinet by the sink.”

”Thanks.”

”I meant to let you know. With so many of you staying for a while you may want to self cater sometimes. So I’m just letting you know that W e can arrange a delivery of groceries from the mainland.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I don’t enjoy cooking. I cook to survive.

“You can leave your shopping list in the kitchen. We can deliver most of what you might expect to buy from a supermarket back to you by the end of the day.”

“Thanks.” But no thanks. Jesus. Joe is intense. Looks like he’s recovered from my brief anger outburst. “I’ll pay you for the greens when I get back.”

He waves off a hand dismissively. “That’s the great thing about my job. I know where you live! Just heard how that sounded. That wasn’t a threat, I swear! I’m not some criminal thug!”

“Who is.”

+

I get back to the resort after lunchtime. The villa has been tidied up and is empty. 

Moss has left a note in the living room.

_We’ve gone to Belize City for the day. Should be back in the evening unless things get really good out there. I’ve got my phone on me so call me if you want to meet up. Hope you crushed it on the waves today. Later dude._

_Btw, we bumped into the cleaner...Damn!_

I’m actually relieved that I don’t have to be in company and perform for my friends. It’s tiring. 

I walk to my bedroom. Our beds have been made up, with folds and creases and shit. A fresh set of bath towels on each. Air freshened. Our stuff has been tidied up. I walk up to Adrian’s bed and kneel next to it. I rest my head on it and stuff my face in its sheets. I’m not proud of myself for behaving like a creep but I can’t stop myself. I inhale what is left of his scent on the fabric. It takes me back to my morning dream so I stay there and let my mind go wild. I forgot that my hair is still wet. When I sit up, there’s a tell tale wet patch on his bedsheets. I step away and hope that it will be dry by the time he gets back.

I quickly grab a shower to rinse off the sea salt and sand then head to the kitchen. Joe really does deliver a first class service. I pick up the generous bag of quality weed that he has left there and give it a sniff. Not as good as Adrian but a close second. There was a note on top of it:

_Belize’s finest greens. Enjoy!_

I think I’ll take this to the garden for my ritual.

+

I feel a presence behind me. I turn around in the hammock just in time to see Adrian try to duck out of sight behind the filmy curtains in our bedroom. He’s too slow though. He knows I’ve spotted him.

“Hi.” He walks to the edge of the doors. “I didn’t think anyone was in.”

“I got back a couple of hours ago.” I try to sit up but lose my balance, fall out of the hammock and land front first, face in sand. “Fuck.”

He swallows a laugh. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” I gingerly get up, dust off and get back in the hammock. “These things are death traps.”

“Or you’re high.” 

“Nah.”

He raises an eyebrow and throws me a wry smile, as he joins me in the garden. “Is this your pre-comp ritual? You normally have company for your chill session.”

He’s not wrong.

“You were all on the mainland.”

He kicks off his flip-flops and hops into the other hammock with more coordination than I showed falling out of mine. “It’s just another city.”

I know what he means. Even a different city with a different vibe is still a city. This island, on the other hand, is special. 

“The guys are still there though.” He says. “We bumped into some girls there that are staying on the island and the guys got talking to them. Anyway, Moss was talking about finding a strip club later.” I could have predicted that. “I’m supposed to tell you what they were up to in case you want to join them.” After a pause he asks, “Do you want to join them?” 

I turn to face him but he isn’t looking at me. His eyes are tracking a single group of clouds that is making its way over our heads.

“No.” I feel great being here in the garden suddenly. I clear my throat. “I’m fine right here.”

“It’s okay if you want to go.”

“I know.”

“I have plans anyway.”

“What plans?”

“I was thinking about going angling.”

“Angling?”

“Yeah. Remember, my dad used to take us on weekends?”

Of course I remember. “I never caught anything.”

“That’s because you were shit at it.” He grins.

I smile. “I wasn’t that bad.”

“There was that one time that you held your fishing rod the wrong way round.” He laughs. Actually laughs. 

“I was nine.” 

“You had eyes though! Or that time when you caught yourself when casting your rod. The hook got stuck in the back of your leg.”

“That hurt! I still have the scar.”

“It was funny at the time.”

“I’ll come too?” I challenge him. 

“Where?” 

“Angling. Why not.” I shrug. Could be good. Could be fun. Could help us build bridges. “You could show me how it’s really done.”

He seems uncertain. “Actually, I think I’ll go on my own.” Those words are like daggers. The distance he creates between us, by standing up all of a sudden and walking back towards the room, confirms his discomfort at being alone with me. “You should go have fun in the city. You’ve always liked strip clubs.”

+

I go to the nearest island bar and take a seat at one of the outdoor tables. I’m still a little buzzed from my joint. That must be why the feeling of my bare toes combing through the hot fine white sand is so soothing and why watching the beads of condensation tear down the tall glass of beer I am drinking is so mesmerising. It must be why I don’t jump on the next boat heading inland to join my other friends.

I spot Nick Connor with a girl sitting a couple of tables away. He’s my stiffest competition and will be a challenge to beat over the next few days. He comes from an Australian surfing dynasty. Both his parents and his grandfather hit swells. He was raised on the water. In addition, he’s a few years older than me; used to competing, winning and with better sponsorship backup. My only real advantage is my hunger. The fire in my belly to win a competition for the first time since juniors.

I don’t normally fraternise with the enemy but I’m currently friendless so beggars can’t be choosers. I raise my glass to him and with my best attempt at an Australian accent, which is terrible, I say, “G’day, mate.” 

He laughs. “Rack off, Cody!” 

He flips me the middle finger so I crease up. Love riling the guy up. “Hey, this is my bird, Mindy!” 

I raise a hand in greeting to her. 

“Come join us.” She says. She’s Australian as well by the sound of it. She’s standard surfer girlfriend material; athletic and pretty in an understated- no makeup natural beauty- way. She reminds me of Jen. A blonde version with wild, sea swept hair and almond shaped brown eyes. I’ll put money on her being a surfer too.

I sit down opposite them. 

“Cody is the surfer I was telling you about.” Nick tells her. 

She looks impressed and says, “So you’re the one to beat in the Men’s heats.”

“Is that what he told you?” I ask her.

“Yeah.”

“I’m flattered. He’s right.” 

She smiles at my cockiness.

“Are you surfing too?” I ask. “Women’s?”

“Um hum. First year. Shitting bricks. Not going to lie.” Classy girl. Down to Earth. I like her. “Who did you come out with?”

“Friends.” I say. “They’ve ditched me for strippers and fish today.”

Conner laughs. His girlfriend looks puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“Three of them are looking for strip clubs in Belize City and one has gone angling.” I clarify. “I didn’t feel like doing either.” 

At least two-thirds of that statement is true.

I spot the girl who cleans my villa walking past the bar with a trolley full of dirty linen. Until Moss’s note earlier, I hadn’t clocked that she is beautiful. Her pale yellow knee length dress with a white protective apron uniform and bright white sneakers partly hide her knockout curves and contrast against her dark smooth skin. 

She sees me looking at her and offers me a quick smile as she passes by.

Connor looks at me knowingly.

“She cleans my villa.” I explain.

“Sure.” His grin broadens. “Bet you wish that wasn’t the only thing she was cleaning.”

Mindy scrunches up her face in disgust. “She’s not a piece of meat, Nick!” 

I perform my role. “You know what I’m talking about!”

Connor and I fist bump.

+

I dread entering the villa but I know I need to face Adrian at some point before bedtime. Now seems like a good time since it’s getting close to dinner time. I keep my fingers crossed that the other guys have decided to have an early night and returned home. They are a necessary buffer between me and Adrian. I have tried but today has proved that things are way too awkward between us.

My wish is ignored. Adrian is alone in the kitchen. He is bare footed and chested, wearing shorts and kitchen gloves and wielding a large clean knife while staring at something in the sink.

I want to ask what he is up to but remember that he doesn’t want my company. 

“Hi. I am going to get dinner soon.” I say.

He startles at the sound of my voice and turns to face me.

“I'm just going to freshen up then I'll leave again.” I add.

I turn to leave for the bedroom. 

“Wait.”

“Yeah.” I face him again.

“I was thinking we could eat together. Here.” He rubs his head with the back of one gloved hand. The one with the huge knife. He points into the sink with the same damn knife. “I caught two fish.” 

I walk up to the sink and look in.

“I was going to bake them. But I’m trying to figure out how to descale and gut them. Dad used to make it look easy.” He rubs his head in despair again. “I should have let the fisherman do it for me.”

“I didn’t know you could catch and eat here.”

“Yeah but only certain breeds.” 

“You don’t have to cook.” I’m actually touched. But also, Adrian is less of a cook than I am. I’m not sure he’s safe in the kitchen.

He pierces me with his steady blue gaze. “Moss texted to say that they aren't coming back until late, so I thought I could fix you up with your pre-comp ritual.”

Pre-comp ritual consists of doing nothing. Literally. The aim is to feel relaxed. 

  * Eating some homemade food. 
  * Drinking beers. 
  * Getting high. 



It’s simple but effective at getting me into the right pre-competition headspace. 

“But like a proper one, not you sad sacking it alone like earlier in the garden.”

I laugh. “Is that what I looked like?”

“Yeah. We have all the ingredients we need. I saw the forest of weed you got there. Then there’s beers in the fridge.” 

Unexpectedly pleasant turn of events. 

“Did you get them in the city?”

He nods. “By the way, I had no right to tell you that you couldn’t come fishing with me. It’s not my island. I shouldn’t have said that. You’re paying for our board and I don’t want you to think I’m not grateful.”

“It’s not a problem.”

“I’ll pay towards the room.”

“What? No. There’s no need.” 

“It’s just, after everything, I’d feel more comfortable if I did.”

What is happening? Where is this coming from? What the hell is going through his head that is making him say these things?

“The money I used to pay for this place is not my money. It’s sponsor money. So don’t worry.” I smile. “And in three day’s time I’ll have prize money so I’ll be rich.”

“How much is the prize money again?”

“Okay. Not rich. Modestly comfortable.”

He cracks a smile. 

There is an elephant in the room. We are circling around what happened between us but haven’t addressed it at all yet. That is the problem. He hasn’t said anything and I’m not good enough with words to take the first step. I don’t feel ready, right now, to explain what I feel or what I want. Maybe time during this trip will fix that.

Until then we have to figure it out one moment at a time.

Adrian looks back at the fish. “I think I have to take the gloves off.” 

He takes the knife in one bare hand and a fish in another while I head for the fridge and take out two beer cans. 

I sit at a chair not far from him and open a can. “I can’t wait to see this carnage.”

+

I cooked. I'm the safer option for the sake of our health. Baked fish, beer and blunts. We’re in the garden, in the warm night air, sharing Adrian’s mat on the sand which we’ve set up, picnic style. He’s sitting opposite me, cross-legged.

“I could eat three of these.” He says as he picks at the remaining flesh on his fish with his bare hands.

“Munchies.”

“Um.” He licks his finger. “This is good.”

I smile. “Got creative with some herbs and spices in the cabinet.”

“You should cook more.”

I shrug.

“Why aren’t you speaking to Craig?” He asks out of the blue.

I shake my head. “I’m taking a break from my brothers and Smurf.”

“Did something happen?”

“Something is always happening. That is the problem. I needed to escape.”

“Last week I went to my parents’ place to get my travel bag. I made sure to pick a time when dad wasn’t around.”

“Why?”

He drinks his beer with more purpose than before. “He’s got issues with his son being a fag. I came out to my family seven years ago. Since then he’s acted as if I got swapped out with an entirely different person.”

He squeezes his empty can in his fist and reaches for another. “Want another one?”

He’s obviously riled up by the situation with his father. The way he aggressively cracks open another beer can shows it. 

“No. I’m good.” I think back at Adrian’s interactions with his father and realise that there have been none that I have seen recently, only references to childhood memories. “I didn’t know.”

“How could you?”

I swallow hard before speaking further. This feels like treading on thin ice. “So you told them when you were 15?”

“Yep. On my birthday.” He says. His eyes are getting a little heavy.

He only came out to us this year. He’s been keeping his sexuality a secret from us all this time.

“Are you wondering why I didn’t tell other people sooner?”

I nod.

“Because I thought you’d all react the way dad did.” His Adam’s apple bobs up and down, swallowing back a surge of emotion. 

I realise that I did exactly that and I feel terrible. My reasons were different but the net effect was the same. I made Adrian feel like crap.

“How did you know you were gay?”

He smiles as if I’m joking but I’m not. I want to know. 

“I was attracted to guys not girls. It was as simple as that.” He sighs. “Remember Chad Kaminski?” He was a couple years ahead of us in high school. Played lots of instruments but was otherwise the silent brooding type. 

I nod.

“We dated.”

“What?”

Adrian's smile is wry. “You’re not the only one with secrets.”

“Didn’t he have a girlfriend?”

He shrugs. 

“For how long?”

“A year and a few months.”

Wow. I wonder who else he’s ‘dated’. Who else he has been with between Chad and Brad. I take my hair out of its top knot to give it a shake and a moment of freedom from being coiled up all day. Or maybe I’m releasing it as a distraction from the image that pops into my head of Adrian sexually interacting with Chad or Brad. The idea irritates me. 

“Your hair is out of control.” Adrian whispers. He follows the length of it down to where it falls to a level below my nipple line.

“Haven’t had a chance to cut it.” I drag my hands through it to get it back into a ponytail that I can knot at the top of my head again.

“Wait. Do you want me to cut it? I’ll take it up a few inches.”

I smile. “I’ve just watched you drink three beers and smoke half a joint.”

“I’m fine. I can cut hair.” 

“The way you cut up the fish?”

“Hey!” He laughs. “I’m good.”

Fuck it. Why not? Worst case scenario, if it looks like someone’s been at it with garden shears, I’ll tie it back.

+

He looks like he knows what he’s doing. I’ve wet my hair as he has requested. Now I’m sitting in the living room with a bath towel over my shoulders while I hold a pair of kitchen scissors and a comb in my hands. He uses a brush to comb my middle parted hair straight. He is concentrating, I guess. That must be why he isn’t talking. So I don’t talk either. I feel him adjusting his position around me as he brushes. His fingers correct my head position any time I move it by even a fraction. He takes the scissors and comb from me and gives me the brush to hold as he combs my hair in sections and cuts it.

“You okay?” He asks.

“Yeah.”

“You’re quiet.”

“I’m enjoying this.”

He pauses. “Shit." He whispers. "I think I’ve messed up.”

“Seriously?”

“No.”

I smile.

“I reckon this is going to raise your score by at least two points tomorrow.” He says.

I watch clumps of my sun bleached blond hair fall in a pitter patter to the floor. God, I hope I'm not going to regret this.

"Don't move." He grips my temples and adjusts my head.

I'm down for this bossiness. I like it.

“How do you figure that?" I ask.

“Less drag in the water. And it's correcting your centre of gravity.”

“A haircut can do that?"

"Yeah."

I can hear the smile in his voice.

"Makes sense.” 

Silence again. Comfortable silence though. The chop of his scissors through my hair. The scrape of his fingers against my scalp. Our breaths in the quietness of the room. 

I wouldn’t mind staying like this for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please do leave your comments. A bit of a slow burn, no? But mama always told me that good things come to those who wait!


	8. Deran Killed It Today

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrian's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter than my usual chapter lengths I guess...

The beach at Long Caye is full of supporters and competition participants. There is a real buzz in the air. Surfing, like other sports, unifies people and draws passionate fans, like me. It doesn’t have as much money as it used to though, so it feels like people participate for the love of their sport and for a chance at glory. That is what I love about surfing. Our heroes, sea gods, are normal men and women with a passion. Many go back to day jobs. Only a few are professional. And even though surfing is a solo sport it feels like a team effort.

Our group is standing on the shore waiting for Deran to be called for his heat. He doesn’t look nervous, just focussed, sitting cross-legged on the sand, waxing his board and listening to music through his earphones. His eyes track Connor on the water as his competitor nails two reverse alley oops in a row then punches the air in joy and self-congratulation.

Nick Connor is so confident and good that it’s scary.

“Aren’t you nervous?” Ox asks.

Deran doesn’t answer. He is in his own world. When an announcement for the next heat comes through a loudspeaker, Moss nudges him and he takes out his earphones.

“You’re up.”

Deran nods as he stands up.

“Kick ass, my brother.” Ox says.

I fist bump him. “Good luck.”

He gives me a smile. “Haircut better perform.”

I smile back. "You'll see."

He zips up his body suit and walks up to the shoreline joining the other members of his heat. I feel nervous on his behalf for some reason. The quality of the waves is intense but ever changing. He’ll need to be on the top of his game.

“Why don’t you compete, Ade?” Colby asks while lighting up a blunt. I look around us then at him as if to say ‘WTF’ and ‘This is a public space’. He shrugs at me to mean ‘I don’t give a fuck’ as he takes a hit. “Deran told me that you used to compete in juniors together. Apparently, you were really good.”

Deran said that?

“I was okay. He was always better. The thing is I’m in college and I’ve got one more year to get my undergraduate degree so I don’t have time to compete. And I can’t afford it. College is expensive enough.”

“Damn. College?!” Moss smirks. “I didn’t know you were a college kid. You do calculus and shit?”

“Environmental and Ocean Sciences as my major with a marketing minor.”

“I barely got my GED.” Colby grins. "How you making bread right now?”

“I work at Real Surf full time during summer break and part time during the semesters.”

“How much do you make?”

I don’t want to say because it is not nearly enough to pay my college fees. Loans have had to cover the shortfall until I start making real money and can pay them back.

He laughs. “That’s what I thought. My advice, get Deran to cut you in on a job. I'm surprised you haven’t already. You could set yourself up enough to get through college and the first couple of years after that if you're smart enough.”

Ox shakes his head. “Ade’s not like that.”

Deran and I have never talked about what he does directly. How he makes his money. It has been something that has been kept separate to our friendship. An unspoken reality that is tucked away in a corner. It hasn’t really bothered me before but now, I wonder why that is. Does he not trust me? Does he think I’m weak. Not tough enough to take it? He clearly thinks these three guys are up to the task. 

“Do you want me to have a word with him the next time we go for a job together?” Colby grins. “Use your business knowledge or something?”

Ox looks at him sternly. “Yo. Don’t corrupt the guy.”

Colby and Moss look amused.

“No one is forcing him. He can say no.” Colby tells Ox. “You've got to admit that Adrian is a unicorn in Deran’s world. All pure and shit.”

Is that what Deran thinks? I am not as squeaky clean as they might think. I may not have dabbled with real crime- just a little shop lifting as a naïve kid- but that doesn’t mean that I haven’t had internal moral battles.

I take the blunt from Colby to make a point and inhale on it.

“Fuck yeah, Ade!” He shouts, urging me on.

I smile. “It’s not my thing. Whatever you get up to. I'm good doing things my way.”

Ox pats me on the shoulder. “See.”

“Can we get back to surfing please? I don’t get it.” Moss says as he looks back at the ocean. “What’s the deal with these competitions anyway. How does it work?”

It is weird that, apart from me, Deran has asked friends to come on this vacation who have little or no interest or knowledge of surfing. We both know people who actually love the sport and surf with us regularly; Clem, Tasha, Rod, Slick Rick, Eduardo. The list goes on. Instead he has gone for guys who he got close to in juvie. Guys that I have grown to know through him but who I do not hang out with as much in our regular life. I wonder why.

They all look at me curiously. Guess I’ll have to educate them.

“So, there are four rounds in this competition. First round has 12 heats. Each heat has 3 surfers, so that’s Deran and those two guys with him paddling out to the waves right now. They’ll get about 20 minutes to ride waves and get scored for their performance by 5 judges. The top 2 surfers in each heat proceed to round 3. The bottom surfers from the first round go into round 2. Again, they are put into heats of three surfers and again the top 2 surfers in each heat progress to round three. From round 3 onwards, it’s single elimination with surfers competing head to head to advance to round 4, then the quarter finals, semi-finals and finals.” They look at me blankly. “Just watch and I’ll explain it to you.”

I walk right up to the water to get a better vantage point as Deran catches a wave. There is a lump of anticipation in my throat.

_Come on, Deran. Show’em what you’ve got._

He has a super relaxed style on the waves, as if they are his home. He makes advanced manoeuvres look easy. Elegant. If there is a negative it is that he takes risks, pushes hard. He’s all or nothing. It’s both a good and a bad thing.

Right now it is an excellent thing. He makes his first set his bitch, gaining good speed to ace each move he makes. There is a gasp of surprise and awe from the crowd and a huge cheer when he kicks back on the lip of the wave, goes airborne, flips twice in the air, only to land neatly on the wave again to continue his ride. As he coasts on his board at the end, he pushes his newly cut hair out of his face and turns to face the crowd on the shore, big grin on his face, cocky as fuck, middle fingers up and pointing at Connor.

+

By the end of the day rounds one and two are done and Deran is one of a few names that is being buzzed about as early potential contenders for the prize. I manage to get chatting with some of the other contenders. It's crazy to get a chance to talk technique and a shared love of surfing with them.

When I finally spot Deran he is surrounded by press and new fans. I try but fail at trying to get near him to congratulate him on going through to round 3. It is great to see him in the spotlight for this so my congratulations can wait, I guess. I’m proud of him. It’s only fair that he get to enjoy this attention without me stuck by his side as an unwelcome appendage, especially since I am hearing rumors of a party that he’s almost certainly going to get invited to.

I decide that I may as well head back to our island. The other boys headed off earlier, tired of all the surf talk. I make my way to Long Caye pier. The wait for a water taxi back to our island is ridiculously long.

“Hi. Were you hanging out with Deran Cody earlier?”

I look to my side.

A guy that is probably about my age, maybe a little older, is looking at me with a big grin on his face. He has a camera with a long lens around his neck and is wearing a bodysuit. I try to place him but do not recognise him as one of the competitors.

“Yeah. Why?”

“Thought so.” He grabs my hand and shakes it briskly. “I’m Gerald Materazzo. Sports photographer. Freelance. Fellow American.”

“Right. Cool.”

“What’s your name?”

“Adrian.”

"Adrian." He nods and repeats it. _Adrian_. “I took some great pictures of him today. He killed it. At this point, I would say that it’s a tight call between him, Connor and Matera going into round 3.”

“Yeah. I think you’re right.”

I advance in the queue and he falls in step with me. A couple of taxis load up with people, which considerably shortens the line. I look at Gerald curiously when I see that he stays right next to me as we near the tip of the pier. He seems comfortable enough to continue our conversation even though I didn’t invite it. Maybe he’s fishing for information.

“Looks like Cody’s got some newfound fame. He looked like he was enjoying it.”

“His head’s going to get so big I don’t know how he’ll fit through the door.”

He grins. “I guess that’s what friends are for. Grounding. Humbling. You’re friends, right?”

What else would we be?

“Yeah.”

“Where are you staying?” He asks.

“Turneffe Island Resort.”

“Cool. Will you be here tomorrow?”

“I guess so. Got to show support.”

“True.”

A water taxi approaches the pier. I turn to Gerald.

“I’m at the Glover’s Atoll. Further South.” He says but then points behind him at where we just came. “But I’m not done for the day, so I better get back to work.”

Oh. So why the hell did he walk up the pier with me?

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Adrian.”

He touches my elbow, lingering longer than I would normally expect then winks at me before walking back towards the island. That is when the penny drops.

+

Deran walks into the room in darkness.

He probably thinks I’m asleep but I’m not.

“Shit.” He hisses when he bumps into something.

“Turn the lights on.” I say.

“I thought you were asleep. Sorry.”

“No, I’m awake.” I squint my eyes in the blue dark glow as I look at him. “I wanted to say congratulations.”

“Thanks.” He takes a step up to me.

“You killed it.” I sit up, careful to keep my sheet over my body.

“You left.”

“You looked busy. You had new fans and journalists. I didn’t want to bother you.”

He doesn’t say anything for a while. He turns away from me as he takes his top and shorts off. When he is down to boxer briefs he picks up his bath towel and stomps towards the bathroom. I can tell an angry Deran walk when I see one.

“I went to a party. That’s why I’m late.” He says, once he gets to the bathroom door. “I had a great time.”

“I’m glad. We had a barbecue.”

He steps into the bathroom, turns the lights on and slams the door shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this and for your comments x


	9. F**k It, This Might Be My Last Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deran's POV

I walk to the bathroom and slam the door shut behind me with force. I turn on the shower and wait until it is ice cold before jumping in, fighting against the urge to get out despite my body’s protests; the shivering and goosebumps. This is no ice bath, but my muscles need soothing after taking a constant beating over the past few days. My brain has to cool down too. It’s way too wound up. 

_‘I wanted to say congratulations.’_

Adrian really said that with all that fake sincerity while cosy in his bed as if to prove the opposite. Such empty words. I do not believe him. Actions speak louder and he chose to leave me at Long Caye after the best set I have ever had. I know the other guys left too but I didn’t expect them to stay. I thought he’d want to be there with me. I guess he still hasn’t forgiven me. I shouldn’t have assumed he did when he threw our pre-comp ritual or cut my hair. I should have known that he was just trying to make our living situation while on vacation, more bearable. Nothing else.

I get out of the shower feeling calmer. At least now I understand where I am with him. I brush my teeth, get into a new pair of boxer briefs, finger-comb my hair, then walk back into the bedroom.

I look over at him. He’s turned to his side and covered himself completely in his white bedsheet, like a cocoon. I guess he’s asleep. I nearly take a step towards him, think again and get into my bed.

+

It’s the middle of the night and I feel myself waking up from sleep. Adrian is sitting on the edge of my bed, staring at me.

“Hey.” He whispers.

I rub sleep out of my eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

He looks conflicted.

Unexpectedly, he kisses me. It’s a surprise. A pleasant one though. I kiss him back and pull him to me. He smiles when I reach for his boxers and try to coax them off him.

“Slow down.” He murmurs.

His hand holds mine, pausing my action. He kisses me harder and I moan when his weight rests on me in my bed. 

“Do you want me to do what I did last time?” He whispers into my ear.

“Yes.”

+

I wake up.

I can’t believe I dreamt about Adrian again and I'm annoyed that I woke up too soon. This dream was much shorter and to the point but equally frustrating: leaving me wound up tight with unreleased tension.

Adrian isn’t in his bed. In fact, he isn’t in the bedroom. The bathroom is misty and warm from recent use though. His citrussy shower gel filters through the air. I get ready for the day quickly then go to the kitchen. He is sitting at the table with the rest of the guys waiting for me with a breakfast of fruit salad and protein shakes laid out in front of them. 

“Morning.” They all say apart from him. 

“Morning.” 

“We thought we’d surprise you with this.” Moss says. “Adrian said that you scored a personal best yesterday, so this is congrats, dude. Protein shake breakfast!”

Adrian is avoiding eye contact with me, so I say thanks to the room and take a seat.

“Sorry we couldn’t be there for the whole thing yesterday, bro.” Ox says. “But you know how it is.”

I nod as I pour myself a glass of thick shake. I know how it is.

“So rounds 3 and 4 today?” Colby asks.

“Yeah.”

“And then you’re through to the quarter finals?”

“Fingers crossed.”

“So I thought you’d want to know that we had a successful time yesterday too.” Ox says. Adrian glances at him with curiosity. Ox adds, “It was before we met up with you for the barbeque, Ade. We went to the city again. Really beautiful, Deran. You would have loved it. We tasted local cuisine.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Ox smiles broadly then his expression changes sharply. It becomes sombre. He clears his throat. “Hey, so here’s the thing. I don’t think I’ll be able to make it out to Long Caye today to see your set.” 

“I mean, yeah.” Colby interjects. “Me too. I would love to, but the thing is we got talking to some girls and they wanted to hang out today to go the the Great Blue Hole. You know how it is.” 

"All of you?" I stare at them, then at Moss. He is quietly eating his bowl of fruit, listening but choosing to stay quiet.

I understand. Loud and clear so I stand up and walk out of the villa.

+

I light up a cigarette once I step outside the villa and onto its front porch. Ox and Colby are just behind me and make sure to close the front door behind them.

“So what’s the news?” I ask them in a hushed voice, blowing smoke out to one side.

“It’s good. Real good.” Ox is grinning from ear to ear. “But first we wanted to tell you about a much more lucrative job for us. Better than the one we are planning.”

Colby enthusiastically nods in agreement. “Dude, we’ve managed to get our hands on the best shit.”

“What shit?”

He hesitates before saying, “Coke.”

“What?”

Ox drops his voice. “Before you say ‘no’ and freak out, hear me out. We are looking to pocket upward of a hundred grand each. Easy. Maybe more.”

“No.” I shake my head. “We are not becoming drug mules.”

“Why not? What is the best-case scenario with your job? Half that? If we’re lucky? This one is a no brainer.”

“My plan is safe.” I argue. “A hundred grand means nothing if we’re in jail.” 

“No one is going to jail. We’ve got it figured out.”

No, they don’t and they’re too stupid to realise it. Smuggling drugs in large quantities across borders is not kid’s play. I can’t believe they have decided to do it without discussing it with me first.

“Is Moss in on this?”

“He’s down if you are.”

“Who’s supplying?”

“Someone reliable.”

“Where is the stuff right now?”

“Somewhere safe. Not here. We’re not stupid.”

That’s debatable. Colby is being deliberately cagey about the details of this new job because he knows they are sketchy as hell.

“How are you going to get it across the border without getting caught?” I challenge them.

“That’s the genius part. We hide it in your surf boards.”

“Are you joking?”

They shake their heads.

Christ.

“You do know that they search or scan all large items.”

“Then we’ll come up with something else.”

“Who’s holding the drugs for you right now?”

“Someone we trust.”

They are actual idiots. Who do they know in Belize that they can trust? They’ve been here five minutes. “What makes you think that they won’t rat you out or try to cut a better deal with someone else.”

“Deran. Come on, man.”

“No. I’m not doing it. It’s too risky.” I say. “The credit card job is solid. There is no way it can be traced back to us.”

Ox sighs. “Okay. Okay. Maybe we can talk about it later.”

“I won’t change my mind.”

Ox’s shoulders slump like an unhappy defeated kid. 

Colby stands his ground though. “Adrian mentioned that he’s in debt because of school. If you’re out, I’ll ask him if he wants in.”

Before I think about what I am doing I have Colby by the neck, pinned against the wall of the house. He lands against it with a thump, winded.

“Shit!” He looks scared. “Get off me!”

“Adrian stays out of this.” I hiss at him. “You hear me?”

“Jesus, let go of him, Deran!” Ox pleads.

“Don’t ever involve Adrian in what we do!” I menace Colby. My eyes are point blank with his, making my point clear. 

Ox prises me off him. “Relax. Colby is just messing. He knows that Ade isn’t in our line of work.”

My blood is pumping so hard through my veins. The mere suggestion of dragging Adrian into what I do infuriates me. I don’t want him to slip down to my level, down in the dirt. He is better than this. 

Colby rubs his neck gingerly as he catches his breath. “You’re a fucking psychopath, Deran. This competition is messing with you.”

“We are planning to get the intel from the office today.” Ox says, getting back to the business of talking business. “Which is why we made that whole show of saying we’re not coming to see you surf today.” 

“Have you got the keys to get into the office, already?” I ask. “I don’t want it to look like a break in.”

“I swiped a master set from the hot cleaner. Moss got mouldings for all the keys, then I returned them before Nadia noticed they were missing. That’s her name by the way; hot, sexy Nadia. Anyway, we’ve got access to the whole resort now.” 

I nod. “Good.”

Ox says. “What can I say, my pickpocketing and pick up skills come in handy.”

“I’ve checked the best time to get into the main office.” Colby whispers. “The reception area will be empty midmorning. The office staff all take a half hour break at the same time. Ridiculous.” Colby shakes his head at how lax security is. “Too easy. That’s plenty of time to get in and out with what we need.” 

I guess they really did do the tasks they were supposed to get done yesterday.

“Are you sure you want to go in broad daylight?” I say. “They’ll be too many eyes.”

“The opposite. Most tourists are out on activities, away from that area.” Ox says. “Plus Colby is stealthy and I’ll be on the lookout anyway.”

I nod. “Okay.”

“But, we can’t have Ade around.” Ox says firmly.

Colby adds. “He was saying something about not coming to Long Caye today.” 

"Why?" I ask, but I think I know the answer.

“I thought you said that you were cool with him.” Ox mutters. 

“I don’t have a problem with him.”

That’s kind of true. I thought we were cool but then he dumped me at the competition in favor of a fucking barbeque.

"That's how it loos from here." Ox says. "He was stoked when we saw him yesterday. He kept saying shit we didn't understand about how you surfed. Then you got back and today he's been miserable."

Maybe I overreacted at the fact that he left the island. Maybe.

Colby narrows his eyes at me. "The bottom line is that you need to not have a problem with him if you want him to not be witness to criminal activity tomorrow or become an accomplice by being in the wrong place at the wrong time, he can’t be with us tomorrow.” 

Ox drops his voice even further. “Right now Moss is trying to persuade him to go with you. It's a perfect alibi if he needs one. So you need to go in there and say whatever you need to say to make him know that you aren’t the homophobic prick you are behaving like. Otherwise our plan is going South.”

“I don't know why you're being such a dick about him, dude." Colby says. "He's the one who fixed that breakfast. He’s a decent guy. He’s the only one who actually cares about how you do in this competition.” 

I stay quiet. I feel terrible.

+

Conversation has been tense but not completely absent between Adrian and me. While waiting for my heat we sit on the beach with a few other surfers and their supports. That makes conversation easier, being able to speak as a large group not just one to one. At some point, however, we face the inevitable. He eventually turns to me as the silence between us builds up.

“I just wanted to say that I think it’s shit that the other guys haven’t come out to see you today.” He looks annoyed and angry on my behalf. 

“I don’t mind.” I really don’t. That is not why they came on this vacation. I knew that. I wasn’t lying to Adrian when I said that he is the only one I wanted here with me. He was always my true travel companion, the person I wanted to share the experience of the competition with. “They don’t know anything about surfing anyway.”

“They really don’t.” He smiles. “I was explaining the heats to them.”

“How did that go?”

“Glazed eyes everywhere.”

“How can they call themselves Oceansiders.” I grin at him.

He muses, “Maybe next time you should ask Clem and Tasha to come instead.”

“Yeah. I should have thought of that.”

“Yeah.” 

The way he studies me is unnerving, as if he is trying to figure something out. Eventually he sighs and says, 

“I didn’t mean to abandon you yesterday. That is not how it came across in my head when I left.” He seems sincere. “You were surrounded by people clamoring for your attention. I honestly thought you had forgotten I was there. Not in a bad way. It just seemed like your plate was full and that it wouldn’t be important for you if I left.”

There is something about Adrian’s eyes that swallows me up whole when they look directly at me. I am engulfed by them. They feel like the barrel of a swell; surrounding me, dangerous, wild and enticing. They suck me up at speed, causing my heart to race and my body to rumble with adrenalin.

“Cody!”

I resurface from Adrian’s gaze and follow the sound of Nick Connor’s voice. He saunters over, jams his board into the sand and sits next to us. 

“I saw your set yesterday.” He says. “Was that a new greeting for me at the end there with the middle fingers?”

I laugh. “I guess I get truthful when my adrenaline level is high!”

“Ha!” Nick nudges me playfully. “I saw your girl this morning, by the way, when I was having breakfast at the bar with my bird. She was pushing that cleaning trolley around all sexy-like.” He slowly exhales a breath like she’s too hot to handle. “Have you pashed yet?”

I look at Adrian. He’s studying his fingers, uninterested by what Nick is saying. Good. There is no reason for him to care and there is nothing going on between me and the cleaner.

“No. And her name is Nadia.” I smirk. “I’ve got to beat you first!”

Nick laughs in delight. “You wish, dude. You wish!” He turns his attention to Adrian, “So are you going to introduce us or be rude.”

“Adrian is a childhood friend from back home.” I say. 

“Hi.” Adrian says.

I point at Nick. “This is Nick Connor.” 

“I surf.” Nick says unnecessarily given he is in his bodysuit and a smattering of people are holding up banners with his name on. He pumps Adrian’s hand firmly. 

“Yeah. I know.” Adrian says. “I’m a big fan.”

“Ta.” 

“Adrian surfs too.” I say. “We used to compete in juniors together.”

“Thought I recognised you.” Nick’s eyes are dancing as he looks at Adrian. “Were you at Trestles six or seven years back?”

“Yeah.”

We are interrupted by the flash of a camera and an announcement over the beach’s loudspeaker. The announcer calls for Connor and his round 3 opponent to head towards the water. The crowd goes insane and storms the beach, hoping to get a front seat view of the set. His is one of the most highly anticipated heats of this round.

Nick seems unfazed by the fans reaction. Instead of heading towards the water immediately, he faces the guy who took our picture.

“Dude, it’s polite to ask before taking snaps.”

“Sorry.” The photographer says. “I take candids. They capture real moments instead of fake, staged ones. That’s what interests me. I can delete them if you want.”

“Nah, man. It’s just that you’ve caught me fraternising with the enemy with a smile on my face.” Nick grins. “Make sure you edit that out, will you?”

He winks at the photographer.

“Done.”

“Better go.” Nick is all smiles and relaxed as he stands up. “Keep your eyes peeled on the water, Cody. I’m about to show you how it’s done.”

He walks towards the shoreline while flipping me the bird. He shouts without turning round, “That’s a special Aussie greeting, by the way! Traditional!” 

“Thanks!” I shout back. “I’m touched!”

When I turn my attention back to Adrian he is talking with the photographer. 

“So back for more?” The photographer asks him.

“Yeah.” Adrian smiles way too readily at him, completely the opposite to the silent, still expression he has had for most of the morning with me. 

How does he know this guy?

“It’s good to see you again.” The photographer says. 

“Same.”

What the hell?

“Hi.” He says to me.

“This is Gerald.” Adrian tells me. “Merazzo?”

“Materazzo.” Gerald smiles back at him. “Close.”

“How do you know each other?” I ask. 

“We bumped into each other at the pier yesterday.” Gerald the photographer says as he looks at Adrian.

I study this stranger as he stares at Adrian. He’s got dark curly hair. Light brown eyes. A bit of scruff on his face. A shell on a string necklace and multiple beaded and woven bracelets on his hands. Has a hippie vibe about him. I think this hippie has the hots for my Adrian.

“Shouldn’t you be taking pictures of Connor?” I ask him.

Gerald snaps out of whatever trance he was in. “Oh yeah! I better go!”

“Good luck.” Adrian says.

“Thanks.” Gerald pauses before going. He speaks to Adrian. “It’d be cool to hang out later if you’re free?” He glances at me as an afterthought. “You too. There’s a beach party at Glover’s. Starts at 8. Fireworks and everything. I can bring a plus one but I’m sure they’d make allowances if one of the competition surfers turns up too.”

“I’ve got the quarter finals tomorrow.” I remind him. “I can’t have a late night.”

“If you get through.” He retorts.

Who does he think he is?

“I plan to.” I give him a cold smile.

“I think you’ve got a chance. You’ve been great so far.”

“I’m glad you feel your opinion matters.”

Adrian looks at me like I’m being rude. It’s a two-way street. Gerald is an asshole. 

“We haven’t made plans yet for tonight but our resort is also throwing a party tonight.” Adrian tells him. “Plus there’s five of us so coming over wouldn’t work I guess.”

I shouldn’t be so happy with his reply but I am.

"The invitation is there if you can make it or if you want to do something else let me know. I'd love to hang out.” 

He passes Adrian a business card. I stare him down as he walks away then watch as Adrian slips the card into his pocket.

+

I’ve gotten through to the quarter finals. So there Gerald the Photographer. Bite me. If I’m being honest with myself it was a combination of luck and anger. Luck because I was up against weaker competitors in both my third and fourth round head to heads. Anger because I kept playing back the cockiness of Gerald the Photographer trying to chat up Adrian.

When I get back on land, I am approached by a hoard of people. Fans. Photographers. Journalists. Sponsor representatives. Coaches. They are like vultures. It’s funny how popular you get when you’re successful. I guess all humans are magpies, not just us thieves. I commiserate with my opponent and accept the congratulations of the swarm of people around me, but really I am looking out for Adrian. It doesn’t take long to find him. He is looking right back at me deep in the crowd surrounding me. I beeline for him and pull him into a hug that surprises him because he stands unresponsive to my hold for a second before curling his arms tightly around me.

+

Joe is standing on the porch, grinning for no obvious reason when we get in, like some weird creep.

“I hear congratulations are in order, Deran!”

“Yeah.” I raise my hands up to punch the air. “I’m through to the quarter-finals!”

He gives me an uninvited high five. “Awesome!”

For a moment, seeing how happy Joe is for me makes me feel bad that we’re pulling a hit on the resort. He is a nice guy, an overly attentive employee, and the resort is amazing. My consolation is that what we are going to do won’t affect him directly, the people being robbed will be able to claim back on their insurance and the real people being fleeced will be huge corporations who don’t give a fuck about the little man. 

No hard feelings.

“So it’s quarters, semis and finals, all tomorrow, huh?” Joe asks.

“Yep.” I say.

“Your poor legs. You’re up against Igarashi first, right?”

“For my sins. He’ll make me work for it for sure.” I ask what I’ve been wondering since we walked up to him. “Why are you here, Joe?” 

“I just wanted to make sure that everything was in order with your surprise.”

He looks mortified at his slip of the tongue while Adrian gives him a death glare. “Dude.” 

“Sorry!”

Adrian grins as he opens the door and leads the way to the living room. “I called Joe while we were out at Long Caye. I figured that every part of you must be feeling pretty beat up and could do with this ahead of tomorrow. Eliza can do sports massages.”

A masseuse is standing in an all-white uniform by a massage table and other massage bits and pieces.

+

The open-air club at the resort is off the chain tonight. It’s as though everyone has taken their learner wheels off and floored the gas. The crowd is injected with surfers who have fallen out of the competition. They, their friends, and family are ready to relax, let their hair down and have a good time. With only eight of us left in the race for the top spot, it’s no surprise that the night life has picked up today. Fewer and fewer of us are trying to be sensible.

I told myself that I’d try to take it easy and be disciplined but I’m a Cody and I don’t know what that means. So I have done my best and stop at 3 shots and 2 beers. The superweed has got us into a super mellow, ‘fuck-it-lets-have-fun’ state though.

I prop up the bar with Moss, looking out at the dance floor which is basically a portion of the beach bordered out by bamboo fencing on the sand and string lights in the air. Ox and Colby have opted for going to the mainland with a couple of girls. Adrian is talking to a couple of knocked out surfers, sharing stories of good times on swells. Signs of drunkenness in Adrian. 1. Eyes are not all the way open. 2. Open stance sway. 3. More animated than normal. 4. Can’t keep his beer from spilling every five seconds and cussing about it. It’s adorable.

“I’m thinking I could surf.” Moss says.

I laugh. “You can’t even walk on land.”

“I’m working on it.” He smirks.

“Are we set for tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

I hide my words behind my beer glass. “You have all the card details?”

“Yep.”

“Have you tested the software?”

He looks at me as if to say this is not his first rodeo. “I got this, D.” Moss looks around. Everyone is dancing, chatting, or trying to pick up. No one is paying attention to us.

“Good. I spoke to Joe. He has no clue that there was a security breach earlier.”

“Colby was like a ninja.” Moss turns to face me. “Are you sure you want to do this while we are here? I could do it once we get home.”

I shake my head. “You’re sure that there is no way it can be traced to us, right?”

“No chance.”

“Then it has to be here. This way we know that all the card details are live and valid. Once people leave it’s anyone’s guess. This gives us the best chance of the biggest loot.”

“True.” Moss turns back to the bar. “Ox and Colby will come to your competition tomorrow by the way while I do my thing. So you don’t have to worry about being alone with Adrian again.”

“I don’t have an issue with him.” These words are starting to become a chorus but for once I’m being truthful. We’re on good terms again.

“I don’t know, man I’m picking up on some serious tension between you, D. It's called intuition or some shit.” 

A new crowd of people descends on the party. Some are people that I recognise from the beach at Long Caye. A few come over and start chatting to me. Moss taps my shoulder. 

“That’s my cue to peace out. I think I’m going to join Ox and Colby in town. This place has suddenly got a little too surfy for me. Wanna come?”

“Nah. I’ve got to get some sleep soon.”

“Oh yeah. Cool. Guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Yeah. Take it easy with the strippers.”

“They gotta take it easy on me!”

+

Many of the new arrivals have come from Glover’s atoll. Among them Fucking Gerald the hipster Photographer. He walks to Adrian like a missile with a tracker and Adrian looks pleased to see him; welcomes him with a hug and a smile.

I’ve got my own company, a surfer chick, who has zero sense of personal space, but I keep getting distracted by Adrian and the hippie. How close are they to each other? How much fun is Adrian having? What are they saying? Was that an intimate touch?

“Excuse me.” I say to the girl to shut her up. I can’t engage in our conversation. I tell myself that I should call it a night. Get some rest. Get ready for tomorrow. Instead my legs walk me over to Adrian.

“Hi.” I try to fix a smile on my face.

Adrian’s grin broadens when he sees me. He puts a hand on my shoulder. “Hey! Guess who showed up!” 

My hands rest on my hips as I look at Gerald. “How’s it going?”

He is obviously put out by my presence. Am I wrecking whatever flow he thought he was in? Good.

“Good. You?” Gerald narrows his eyes at me. “Adrian and I were talking so.”

Adrian has gone still, staring between the two of us with his beer cradled against his chest.

“Okay.” I say. “I thought your atoll had its own party tonight.”

“Deran.” Adrian warns.

Gerald squares up to me. “I texted to tell him he was going to miss the fireworks but Adrian said he wasn't going to make it and was going to be here instead.”

I know why. Adrian is terrified of fireworks. There was a time when a bottle rocket firework accidentally barrelled toward him when he was seven or eight, narrowly missing him. Since then he literally finds any excuse to go under cover or avoid them.

Gerald smiles. “So, I decided to come over to see him. I figured ‘fuck it’, I’m going soon so this might be my last chance.”

There is something in his confidence and openness that disarms me. It’s so different and foreign to me. I can’t do the same; just say out loud what I feel. How I feel. Even when I’ve got alcohol and weed running through my system.

“Fine.” I whisper. “Have fun together.”

I step away. 

I am strong in many ways. Driven. Determined. But not when it comes to this. I feel defeated and deflated. I try not to show it though. Where would that get me? 

The person who was speaking to me before I went over to Adrian, accosts me again. She’s very ‘up’. Must have taken a line of blow. And she’s after more than a chat. She whispers something in my ear about my hair and being somewhere private or something. Then she grabs my bicep, gives it a squeeze, and smiles approvingly. I pull away. Apologize. Tell her I’m not interested. I walk away like I should have done ages ago. I shouldn't have smoked or drank. I shouldn't have tried to break up whatever is going on between Adrian and that guy.

I get to the front door of the villa. Getting the key lined up to the keyhole takes more concentration and co-ordination than I've got at the minute. I hear footsteps behind me, approaching, so I turn half expecting Joe or an assailant.

“Why did you leave?” 

It’s Adrian and he's frantic.

I am too embarrassed to tell him the truth which is that I am jealous. Stupid jealous.

“I’ve got to sleep for the competition tomorrow.”

He pauses when we are face to face. He punches my arm out of the blue. It's painful. “I’m not interested in Gerald.”

“I don’t care if you are.”

He looks completely thrown off and hurt by my lie. “Okay. Fine.”

He turns to leave as quickly as he came.

Why did I say that? I don't want him to leave. I can’t let him go so I stop him. I grab his arm and move to position myself between him and our property’s front gate. My blood pumps loudly in my ears as I press my hand against his chest. I scrunch the fabric of his t-shirt in my fist and feel the warmth and firmness of his skin beneath. This is a moment that can only go one way. I close the short distance between us. I forget that this is my best friend and we are outdoors and potentially exposed to the eyes of others in a foreign land. Or maybe it is because of these things that I give in to what I want and break my own rules.

I kiss him. I drag my arms around his back the way I did on the beach. I feel his wrap around me. It’s carnal, thirsty and urgent. His heart thumps against my chest as fast as mine. I tug at his top and slip my hands under it. I’ve dreamed of this. I’ve dreamed a lot of things when it comes to Adrian. I feel his smile against my lips, relaxed and happy before opening up to me.

He pulls away after a moment and whispers heatedly, 

“Let’s go inside.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for continuing to read this slow burn and for your comments. I really do appreciate them x


	10. Phoenicopterus ruber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrian's POV.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning- Sexual stuff.
> 
> I love writing this but don't have as much time as I'd like. Apologies for any major typos (small typos are my thing!). I haven't really had a chance to edit it x

_I’m going to regret this._

That is what I keep thinking as Deran unlocks then opens the door to the villa. He grabs my tank top to pull me to him and push us in. I ignore my internal voice and smile back at him. He has that same look in his eyes that he had when he came to my place and we ended up hooking up. I crash up against him and press my lips to his. He embraces me, all in, hurrying and trying to do too many things at once. Take my clothes off. And his. Move us towards our bedroom. Hold me. Kiss me. Feel me up. He’s full of pent up passion and incoordination so I help him to get us out of our tops and I kick off my flip flops as we cross the living room.

 _I’m going to regret this_.

We tumble into the bedroom. He closes the door then the gap between us, slamming into me with more force than he probably intended. My back thuds loudly against the door trapping me between him and the hard wood. The echo from the impact bounces off the walls.

“Shit.” He whispers heatedly. “Sorry.”

He didn’t hurt me. I want him. “It’s fine.”

I lunge forward for a kiss, but he pulls back, pausing long enough to lift me slightly out of my haze of lust. “I meant the door. I don’t want to have to pay for damages.”

He’s choosing now to try being funny? My smile tells him to eat shit until he wipes it off me by diving for my neck, sucking sensually at my skin there. Making me moan like I’m his bitch. I crane it back to give him more room and close my eyes when I feel him move his lips to my collar bone, shoulder, chest, planting wet heady kisses as he goes. He stops so I open my eyes.

He’s looking at my expression, listening to my sounds of pleasure that immediately die on my lips when our eyes make contact.

_He’s regretting this. He’s wondering how he’s ended up tangled up with me sexually… again._

He straightens up to get us at eye level. Cranes in slowly, kisses me open eyed, like he’s facing the truth of his actions. It’s sensual, less frantic, like he has time on his hands. A gear shift. He moves to press his mouth to my nipple. He licks the hard nub and my body turns to jelly. I’m not loud but I can’t stay silent either when I’m in the moment. I feel legless from the sensation of his mouth and tongue; the slipperiness mixed with the roughness. The persistence and languidness of him on me. It’s only when I open my eyes because he’s playfully bitten down on it that I realise I had closed them again. When he switches over to my other nipple, my back arches up to him and my hands are in his freshly cut hair; still long enough to play with. Still one hundred percent ‘surfer casual’ Deran. I drag it back off his face and bunch it in one hand. I use it to direct him back up to me. To kiss me again. I can’t get enough of his kisses. They are wildly passionate. Hot. Engulfing. They carry a promise of more. I want us to get to our beds. His or mine. It doesn’t matter.

“Why’d ‘you have to be so sexy?” He murmurs as he presses himself up to me, toe to toe. Chest to chest.

I finally understand what people mean when they say that their breath has been taken away. I wrap my arms over his shoulders as our kiss deepens. I feel myself fall away from myself, lighter and more sensitive all over. I willingly let him trap me against the door and nudge down my shorts and boxers in one move. Getting me naked. I rock to coax them down my legs and kick them off my ankles. I gasp when he touches me. He traces the sides of my body, pulls me to him at the hips then grips my butt cheeks. He firmly cups them with both hands. My rock-hard dick pushes against his, divided by the material of his shorts. I strain against it, rubbing myself on him to get friction going. He pushes his hand between us, grips my dick. Out of the blue. He studies it like he’s never seen one before, feeling its dimensions. I sigh heavily against his wet lips with every measured stroke up and down. I wonder whether this is a first for him, touching another man’s dick. I want to tell him that it feels so good. I want to pump into his fist. I kiss him hard hoping that communicates my feelings to him.

He gets down on his knees. He spits into his hand and smooths it on me, getting a smooth glide going. That turns me into putty. I lose my inhibitions. I grip his hair hard and my dick gets harder with every touch of his fist. And the precum. When did that happen? It’s right there in his face. Dangling from the tip of my cock like a viscous waterfall. He takes a finger to it and uses it as lube to smooth his strokes even more. His mouth catches the next drop. He licks it off the head of my dick like he licked my nipple a moment ago. He groans like I have never heard him do in the past, swiping at the sensitive underside of the head of my cock. I shudder when he does it again and then takes me into his mouth. Slowly. Deliberately. He lowers his mouth onto me. He takes me in, and I feel like I’m going to explode. I can’t speak and I will deny ever making the sounds coming out of me right now.

This feels amazing. So amazing that it may all be over too soon if he carries on like this.

My subconscious hears keys rattling in the front door. I shut up immediately and half heartedly try to stop Deran. I tap his shoulder, stroke his cheek.

A voice breaks through the silence of the villa.

“Hello! Is anybody home?” Moss is calling out from the living room.

Deran springs off me so fast that I worry, after the fact, that he could have bitten my dick off in shock. He stands up, rubbing my precum and his spit from his lips. “Shit!”

Deran looks for his top. It’s not in the room. Neither is mine.

“Deran? Adrian? Are you here?” Moss’s voice approaches the bedroom door. His footsteps stop just outside.

I scramble to grab my boxers and use them as a shield for my junk but there is no hiding my erection behind a bit of cloth. I bolt into the _en_ suite bathroom and shut the door. I glance between my legs and try to coax my dick to calm down.

I hear Deran open our bedroom door seconds later.

“What are you doing here?” He asks Moss impatiently. “I thought you were going to the mainland?”

“Can I come in?”

“No. I’m about to sleep.”

“Where’s Adrian?” Moss asks.

I press my ears to the bathroom door straining to hear their hushed voices.

“Bathroom. Why?”

“Nothing.” The volume of Moss’s voice drops a fraction further. “I decided that having a heavy night out the night before the job is a bad idea. There’s a lot riding on this.”

There is silence.

What job?

“Not now.” I hear Deran mutter then, “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Dude, why are your clothes on the floor in the living room? I saw your tops there-”

“It’s hot as balls in here. That’s why. How is a ceiling fan doing anything except move hot air around?”

“True. It’s bull.”

“Bro, I’ve got to sleep.” Deran repeats impatiently.

“Okay! I won’t disturb you tomorrow while you do your thing on the waves. I don’t want to distract you or nothing, but I’ll keep the other guys up to date and let them know if there’s a problem.”

“Use the burner phones.”

“You know it.”

“Cool.”

“Alright. Peace.”

The door closes but I wait in the bathroom. I put my boxers on while trying to take in what I overheard. Putting the pieces of the puzzle together until the whole picture makes sense. Job. Burner phones. The fact that Deran’s brought his juvie friends here instead of his surfer bros.

He opens the bathroom door.

“Hi.” I rarely see Deran like this. Kind of shy. Kind of unsure of his next move. He’s leaning on the bathroom door frame, trying to look casual. “He’s gone and I’ve locked the door.”

“I heard you.”

My words hang between us until I know that he knows what I mean. I. Heard. Him.

He huffs, pushes his hair back, ties it into a bun and backs away. I get it. He is feeling judged, but I am not judging him. I am confused though, because when we went cliff diving, he made it sound like he wanted out of a life of crime- he seemed done with it.

I follow him into the bedroom. He has stripped out of his shorts and is cleaning up his side of the room in his boxers. He looks like a whole snack, I can’t lie. 

He is folding clothes that have been living on the floor. He picks them up and walks to the wardrobe. After placing them away, he turns to me.

“I’m doing a job.” He says, defiantly.

“I figured.”

“It’s all happening tomorrow while I’m competing.”

“Is it safe?” I ask.

“I won’t get hurt.”

“I mean, could you get caught?”

“Would you care if I did?”

Why lie? “Yes. Plus, where am I going to stay if you get caught out here? This is your place.”

He chuckles. “Asshole.”

“Will other people get hurt?” I ask.

His smile dies and the corner of his mouth jerks with tension. “No. No one is getting hurt. I promise.”

“Good.”

“I need you to forget we ever had this conversation.”

I nod.

“And I don’t want you to be on this island until after the men’s final is done tomorrow.”

“Is that your way of forcing me to come and fan over your set?”

He sees my smile and relaxes. “Maybe.”

I close the space between us. He whispers as he rests his forehead against mine.

“I don’t want you to get involved.” He presses his lips to mine.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I say right back.

He grins against my mouth. “Good.”

He touches the waist band of my boxers and hooks a finger into it, tugging me to him.

“Good.” He repeats.

He pushes me onto his bed and wordlessly slips my boxers off again. He starts where he left off, his mouth taking in my cock. Working me up to a muted frenzy, muted because he has a hand clamped over my mouth and the other holding me down, stopping me from my eager gyrations. When I edge close to climax he pulls back and replaces his mouth with his hand, jerking me off. Waiting. Pumping. Using his free hand to caress, cajole and soothe me. His lips and tongue lick my balls and kiss my inner thighs and tease the shaft and head of my cock, switching it up between and hand and mouth until I can’t take it anymore and I blow a big load all over his face and chest.

He looks pleased with himself, uses the back of his hand to wipe some of the cum from the inner part of his eye and tastes me. He kisses me and tastes me again then falls on top of me, still rock hard himself. I fall asleep in a post-fuck slump feeling its nudge against my hip. 

+

I wake up in the middle of the night, caught off guard by the fact that I am sharing my bed with someone. It isn’t something I do.

Not with Brad.

Not with the longest proper relationship I’ve ever had; a 6-month thing I had in my first year of college.

Not with Chad in the yearlong affair we had in high school while he pretended to be straight with a girlfriend who was his beard.

Not with anyone I’ve slept with; not except with Deran, again, last time at my place. It takes trust, for me, and a level of intimacy that I haven’t felt with anyone yet.

Lying here next to Deran doesn’t freak me out though. I am facing away from him, my back against his front. I am his little spoon as his arm rests across my middle. I love the feeling of his warm body enveloping mine. I take his hand in mine and crosslink our fingers hoping I don’t wake him. When I think of him, I think of fire and bright colors, of sharp edges and adrenalin. He is a danger that I can’t help being attracted to. I know it is better that I don’t know the details of what he and the boys are up to, but I am curious. Although I get why he is keeping me in the dark I feel excluded.

I rub my leg against his. We are a tangled jumble of limbs. When his arm and fingers tighten their hold of me, I stop my movements.

“You’re awake.” I say into the night. The shame settles in. How do I explain feeling him up and holding his hand while I thought he was asleep?

I turn in his bed to face him. Deran is staring right at me. He must have got up and cleaned up the mess I made of him when I fell asleep because he’s no longer splattered with my cum.

“How long have you been awake?” I rephrase.

“Awhile.” He whispers.

“What time is it?”

“Just after 4.”

“Were you looking at me while I was sleeping?”

He hesitates. “No.”

I rest my head on my hands. “For the record, that’s creepy.”

“So is playing footsie with someone you think is asleep.”

His smile is gentle. Amused. He pushes his pillow forward so that we can both use it and I remember how he threw all the others off his bed in a frenzy last night when we fell into his bed. Now we must share. Face to face. Point blank. Speaking in whispers.

He whispers. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

I’m not about to tell him that it’s because he’s here, shaking me up with his presence. “Can’t. You?”

He sighs as his hand reaches me and traces down my body, cheek to chest to stomach, like the strum of a guitar using the backs of his fingers. Unhurried. Unhesitant. Comfortable. Is this actually Deran?

“Can’t either.”

“Do you want me to blow you?”

There is method in my request. There is nothing like the sleep you get after having your mind blown by a mind-blowing blowjob. Plus, he’s hot. His wild blond hair and his sharp, direct, penetrating blue eyes and the rough stubble and his lean, tight body. I want to.

He settles his hand square on my chest. Looks right at me. His pupils have widened. He bites his inner lower lip. Hesitates a second and nods.

I place a quick kiss on the lips. “Say it.”

“Yes.”

I smile and fall under the sheet. Settle in the dark, between his legs. I feel air as he pulls the sheet back and turns a side lamp on. He can see me, crouched on elbows and knees, his dick in my hand and my mouth ready. He stares at me as though not believing I am here or about to do what I’m about to do.

Slowly. It’s as if he thinks that if he’s any faster, he will scare me away. He cups my face with the palm of his hand. His thumb caresses the lips and teeth of my open mouth before pushing in. I suck on it and he smiles.

“Just checking.” He whispers.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

+

Deran had Igarashi in the quarters but he got through. He went warrior status on his set. Completely fearless from start to finish. He pulled a gnarly _Kerrupt_ flip like it was nothing. It felt like he cruised air with his board for minutes before landing back on the lip of the wave. The crowd erupted in shock; both surprise and joy at his success as a wild card and disappointment for Kanoa Igarashi who had been favourite to advance. Deran upset those predictions and smoked him. Total annihilation.

Now he is through to the semi-finals.

Colby, Ox, and I manage to hug it out with him briefly, getting wet from his wetsuit and hair before he is led away to do interviews. As usual, he is super chill about the whole thing even though the excitement and tension are palpable all around us.

The final day of the men’s surfing competition has drawn the largest crowd so far on Long Caye’s beach. We stand a few paces away from him with other fans, while he gets interviewed by a sports journalist for a national American news station.

“That was awesome, Deran!” The reporter pushes a mike up to his face.

“Thanks man.” Deran wipes his wet face and jerks his head back to get his wet hair out of his face.

“That last flip. I mean.”

Deran pushes his hair behind his ears then grips his hips hard with his hands. That is a sign of nerves. He doesn’t do public talking. He hates too much attention.

“I’ve been working on it a bit. It came together in the end, so I’m pleased about that.”

“I’ll bet. You’re about to hit the water for the semis. You’ll be up against Connor from Australia or Ka’uhane from Hawaii depending on who makes it through that quarter final. How do you fancy your chances against those guys?”

“Yeah. Good.”

 _Come on. Talk_.

I can feel his tension and try to send vibes his way to relax, hoping that it’ll be over for him soon because I know how much he hates this. He just needs to get into a headspace similar to the one he’s in when he’s surfing, and he’ll be alright.

“You and Connor have had friendly banter over the past two days, and I know you competed as juniors. The crowd saw you flipping each other the bird yesterday. Frenemies, some people are calling you. How would you feel about facing him next?”

Deran shrugs and mumbles. “Nick’s been surfing really good in this competition, like how I wanna surf.”

The reporter laughs. “You’ve been surfing pretty well yourself.”

Deran smiles. “We’ll see who kills it today.”

“Have you got any more tricks up your sleeve?”

“Maybe one or two.” Deran looks behind him at the swells. “The waves have been pretty nice. They’re supposed to get to ten feet. It’d be fun if that happens because Nick and I both ace surfing at that height. But even if they don’t, it’s like perfect pipes and ramps out there so I’m like, yeah, let’s do this.”

“Tell me what your ideal surf would be. Anywhere in the world.”

“No holds barred?”

“None.”

He thinks about it for a moment then I finally see him physically relax.

“That would have to be back home.”

“So Cal?”

“Yeah. San Onofre is my go-to spot. And the surf is the best in the world. For my perfect surf, it would have to be non-comp. Just a chill set with friends.”

“No cheering crowd of adoring fans?”

“Nothing but sun, beers, good company and good times. I’d paddle out, sun shining, no traffic. I’d take off at the second reef on, like, a seven-foot board. Maybe a little smaller. Switch foot, goofy foot. Jam it off the top then ride into the pocket, regular. Cruise down it.” He looks over at me for a second, so I give him a small smile. “Probably see one of my friends trying to drop in to get in on the action, because it’s such a sweet wave. Normally, I’d be thinking, hell nah, right?”

“Right.”

“But this time, I’d let him- or her- have it and we’d grab rail in tandem, coming into the inside. We’d be looking at the prettiest crystal-clear wave- pure glass- as the lip comes down and surrounds us in a barrel. We’d coast it and come out the other end, clean. Then out of the blue a cold beer would rise up out of the foam and land in our hands.”

Deran smiles.

Colby turns to me. “Is he high or what?”

“Pass.” I can’t stop smiling. I’m pretty sure he isn’t. Deran has described our shared ideal wave though. I remember us discussing it, back when we were seventeen and messing about on the waves at Trestles one day. We paused to lie down in the sand, sun beating down on us, adding layers to our fantasy.

“Beer, huh? In a glass or a bottle?”

Bottle.

Deran doesn’t even hesitate. “Bottle.”

He had turned up with four of them and Cheetos stuffed in a cooler in the boot of his car. Stolen from Baz’s fridge, he had told me when I asked. I suspected that the truth was that he’d shoplifted them but whatever.

“They say the ocean provides!” The reporter laughs, amused. “Let’s come back to the competition. You’re flying up the ranks in the WQS. As it is you have a real chance to get into the top ten with your current score. But if you win today you will qualify for the WCT. How does that feel?”

“What’s WQS?” Colby asks.

“World Qualification Series.”

He still looks confused, so I expand my answer.

“This competition is part of a wider series of competitions where surfers try to gain points to advance up a World qualifier leader board. The more points you score the higher up the ranks you get and every competition, like this one, comes with a cash prize too. Hundreds and hundreds of surfers compete in these kinds of competitions all over the world. The top ten surfers of the WQS by the end of the qualifying season get promoted to the World Championship Tour, WCT, which is a pro league of the 34 best surfers in the world. Think Kelly Slater. The bottom ten of the WCT get relegated to the WQS.”

Ox raises his eyebrows. “Cutthroat.”

“The reporter is saying that if Deran wins today he'll be promoted to the league with the 34 best surfers in the World.”

“Damn. I didn’t know he was that good.” Ox asks.

“Yeah. But even if he doesn't win he may get enough points to go up.”

Someone taps my shoulder. I turn around to see Gerald sheepishly looking at me.

“Hi.” He says.

I return his hug. “Hi. How’s it going?”

I introduce him to Colby and Ox.

Gerald glances over at Deran, who is still mid-interview, then turns to me. “Can I talk to you for a second in private?”

“Sure.”

Colby and Ox give me that ‘attaboy’ look like they’re proud that I’ve scored. I want to correct them, but it feels like more trouble than it’s worth. I follow Gerald and he leads me to the beach’s public male restrooms.

I stop, take a step back and look at him. “What are we doing here?”

“It’s not what you think. I need to stay close to the beach because of work. The pub and club are too far. Look, I’m flying back to LA tomorrow and I just wanted to say that I’m sorry I for acting like a dick last night. I had too much to drink.”

“It’s cool. Deran was being a dick too.”

“I felt threatened.”

“Why?”

“You like each other. It’s obvious.”

“What?”

“You and Deran. I’m not blind but I didn’t realise I had competition. I didn’t know Cody was gay.”

I panic.

The surfing community and media is not as intrusive as other sports, but there is a growing tendency to look into the more famous surfers’ personal lives. Since Gerald is a photographer, he is likely to regularly rub shoulders with journalists who could expose Deran.

I know that Deran wouldn’t be ready for that kind of scrutiny and rumour circulating about him.

“He’s not gay.” I say it emphatically.

Gerald looks at me like I can’t fool him. “He was jealous, bro.”

I think fast.

“It’s not that. He was doing me a solid as a friend. I was seeing someone back home, but we broke up just before I came out here. I was pretty cut up about it. I asked Deran to make sure I don’t do something I’ll regret while I’m out here. Like with you. I’m out here to chill for a minute. Nothing else. I think he saw that I was pretty wasted last night. I can rebound hard when I’m not in the right head space.”

“What’s wrong with a rebound? I can make worth your while!” He gives me a cheeky grin, so I smile back.

Um. No.

“Thanks. For the offer, I guess.” I joke off his proposition. I like Gerald but I’m not feeling it between us. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Consider it a coupon you can cash in whenever.“ Gerald still looks sceptical. “Are you absolutely sure about Deran? I don’t know, I’m getting vibes.”

“Nah. He brought home a girl last night. I share his room so I got kicked out and had to sleep on a shitty sofa. I don’t think they got much sleep if you know what I mean.”

“Oh.”

I nod. “Yeah.”

+

In the other quarter-final, unbelievably Connor is out, which means Deran is up against Ka’uhane in the semis.

I am gripped. Staring at the waves, watching every move he and his competitor make: each flip, cutback, alley-oop, aerial, tube ride, switch, 360, tail slide, snap. They are far too evenly matched. I’m demolishing my nails watching them.

“Dude, quit biting your nails.” Ox shakes his head at me.

I sit on my hands. “He’s taking the next one.”

“Next what?”

“Wave.”

“How much does he get if he wins, by the way?” He asks.

I am about to answer but Ox gets distracted by his ringtone and reaches for his phone. “You’re finally awake.”

Colby is staring at him attentively.

“Great.” He says neutrally. “He’s surfing but I’ll let him know.” He ends the call abruptly and says. “Moss has woken up.”

Colby smiles. “Finally.”

Ox grins back. “I know.” 

They must think I’m dumb. I know that Moss called to tell them something about the job they’re doing.

I wonder what it is? Ox and Colby give nothing away. If I was a stranger I would say they looked like normal young guys.

The crowd goes insane. Deran has popped up on a sweet, sweet swell. I get a knot in my stomach as I watch.

He’s goofy foot, taking a high line on the wave. He’s gaining some serious speed on it. He cuts up to the lip, gets airborne and does a massive backside flip. 540 rotation. Lands, on the foam of the wave clean before finally falling back into the water.

I jump to my feet, hands punching the air. Shout so loud out of happiness that I’ve probably blown my vocal cords. That was out of this world. Flawless.

+

Night has fallen. The crowd has thinned out and moved further inland to an outdoor makeshift nightclub for the men’s final party arranged by the competition organisers next to Long Caye’s only bar. The party doubles as the women’s surf pre-competition party. There’s beers, champagne and canapes and a lot of young athletic men and women wearing near nothing because it’s the beach and it’s warm.

Tonight promises to be messy.

Moss joined us on the island not long after the final, looking perky and pleased with himself. I expected the three of them to huddle and talk conspiratorially once he got here but they’re all acting completely normal.

After the competition ended we started out on the beach, not far from where we watched the surf; getting high, watching the sunset, witnessing Deran’s newfound fame as people have streamed past to congratulate him and take pictures.

Once the party started we moved to a table in a bamboo-screened VIP section with the other finalist and our crews. We picked up a group of girls along the way so they’ve been stuck to us since we got here, after Moss promised them free drinks and a good time. The complimentary champagne is popular.

Deran is sitting on a rattan sofa opposite mine, between a blonde and a brunette one. They are fighting for his attention. Laughing at all his jokes. Pretty girls wearing barely-there bikinis, draping themselves on him; rubbing way too much skin with him. Not that Deran seems to mind. He’s entertaining their attention, giving them his time.

I pour myself some more champagne and down the contents of my flute. Then I check my phone. Type a message.

_Hi. How did today work_

_out for you? Any good_

_photos?_

“Deran, dude. Is this what professional or semi-professional women surfers look like?” Moss asks.

“Some of them.” Deran points to a group who are huddled up together and talking animatedly in the main part of the club. Casually dressed but even I can tell that they’re attractive. “That’s Nick Connor’s girlfriend, Keeley Andrews. Australian. She’s with a group of surfers there.”

“And they’ll be competing for the next few days?” Moss is in heaven.

Deran laughs. “Yeah.”

“I’m coming back tomorrow then!”

“Count me in too! Ox adds.

My phone beeps. I check the incoming text message. A reply from Gerald.

_Look over at the bar._

_I’m with the peasants!_

_And yeah, I took a crazy_

_good one of Deran. Right  
_

_in_ _the barrel._

I look in the direction of the club’s bar and smile when I spot Gerald waving at me.

_Come over and say hi._

_Not with your Rottweiler_

_friend_ _there!_

_He knows we’re just friends._

_btw Do you reckon I could_

_buy_ _a couple of pics of him?_

 _Like_ _ones that you won’t sell._

 _I_ _think he’d like the memory_

_Sure. But no charge. I_

_need to_ _edit them first_

 _and make a print._ _But I  
_

_can come round to you_

_tomorrow before I leave_

_to drop them off?_

Someone lands in the empty spot on the sofa next to me. It’s Deran. He’s managed to get himself out of the ‘beach babe’ sandwich he was basking in. He flings an arm across my shoulders, throwing all his weight on me.

“What’s got you smiling?” He asks as he looks down at my phone screen.

I say. “I was texting Gerald. He’s over there by the bar.”

Deran stares him down. “We’ve got too many people in VIP.”

I stare at the girls who he was sitting next to a second ago. “Yeah.”

He glances at me. “What did you think?”

“Of the set?”

He smiles and nods.

“You know you killed it.” I lean in to be heard better, to get over the loud music and background chat. I raise the volume of my voice a little. “I didn’t know that you’ve been practicing insane aerial stunts.”

He glances at me with a sly grin.

“That _Flynnstone_ flip came out of nowhere.” I geek out.

“Skateboarding skills finally came in handy.” He shrugs. “Not enough to win though.” He looks disappointed in himself.

“Wright lucked out. He caught a couple of better waves. Doesn’t matter anyway.” I tell him honestly. If Deran had had two better waves in the final we’d be telling a winner’s story. “You hit a PB. You nailed stunts that I have never even see you do before. You reached warrior status out there today. And you’ve still got a decent chance of making it into the WCT on points.”

My words make him happy. I can tell. I know him well enough even though he’s being chill about it. “Thanks.”

“When you make it to the WCT-” I continue.

“If I make it.”

I correct him. Think positive. “When you make it, you’ll have to commit 100% to surfing.”

“Yeah.”

He sighs, drags his hand through his hair. Looks at me. Nods. He knows what I am getting at. I am asking him if he feels able to drop everything to concentrate on his passion.

He suddenly leans towards my ear but rather than speaking up he drops his voice. He is close enough, however, for the vibrations of his voice to cut through.

“I want to be alone with you.”

He leans back again, casual and pats my shoulder before standing up.

He turns to our friends. “Gotta take a leak.”

“It’s all that champagne, bro.” Colby lifts a flute of the stuff to prove his point.

Deran grins. “Yeah.”

He gives me a fleeting glance that tells me everything. I track him as he crosses the dance floor, rounds the corner at the end before the darkness of the night engulfs him.

I wait a short while. Where the hell has he gone? I squint my eyes and look out towards the beach. I hear a crinkle in my pocket and lift a note out of it. He must have somehow snuck it in there when he sat down.

**Wait for a couple of minutes then**

**Go to the fences around the back**

**of the bar D**

+

“Hey, guys. I’ve just seen Gerald by the bar.”

”Photog?” Ox grins knowingly.

”Yeah. I'll go say hi and grab a round while I'm there. Anyone want anything?”

“Nah. the free Champagne is fine.” Moss winks at me.

I head over to Gerald. “Hey.”

I should feel bad that I’m using him as a decoy. 

“Hey!” He places a kiss on my cheek. “What do you want to drink?”

“Actually. I need to use the restroom, but I’ll catch you when I get back, yeah?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

I practically run to my meeting spot with Deran.

When I get there my arm is gripped in the dark and pulled. I collide with him, chest to chest.

“Shit!” I cuss because he shocked me. 

He puts a finger against my lips to shut me up, then replaces it with his mouth.

I moan against his insistent lips. His kiss. _Yes._

He must have forgotten himself, kissing me like this, outdoors. He whispers all husky and breathless, champagne breath. “I want to show you something.”

I grin ridiculously. Like a real goofy grin because I’m happy. “You want to show me something?”

“You going to repeat everything I say?”

I imitate his urgent huskiness. “If you say it like this then yes.”

“Piss off. Come.”

He walks away towards the island’s private residence. I hope that we aren’t about to do what I think we’re about to do. It’s off limits. Not public property. The large metal fence is the hint. Not that that would ever stop Deran.

There is peripheral lighting that illuminates the fence but the bit that he’s leading me towards, the part closest to the sea is a security blind spot. No light with a scalable tree next to it.

“This isn’t a good idea.” I whisper.

“It’s easy to get over and no one is going to catch us.”

“That’s not the point. I thought you wanted me not involved.”

“I want to show you something. We’re not going to do anything bad.”

“We’re trespassing. What if flood lights turn on when we get over-”

He’s already started to climb the tree. Then he straddles the fence, jumps and lands on the other side.

He motions for me to join him. Against my better judgement I do. Trespassing is much easier than you’d think.

He leads me through the private garden. It’s heavily irrigated, giving it a lush tropical green appearance that the rest of the island does not have.

We stop after we are a fair way in. Deran points ahead of us and whispers. “See.”

Not even 15 yards in front of me there are about a dozen pink flamingos. I take a step up towards them.

“I saw them out of the corner of my eye when I was surfing yesterday.” Deran whispered.

“I’ve never got this up close to them.” I slowly walk up to them. “This species is the American one, _Phoenicopterus ruber_.” I’ve studied them. They’re not an endangered species but they are on the watch list. “They’re native.”

I try to reach out to touch one when I’m close enough.

“Maybe you shouldn’t do that. What if it attacks you?” Deran whispers behind me.

“They’re not aggressive.”

I stroke a wing of the closest one to me and watch as it fans out, bright pink, before the bird saunters away from me. This is the most surreal thing ever.

This is one hundred percent Deran. The weirdest, nicest, most amazing, and yet at the same time criminal thing that anyone has ever done for me.

His arms wrap themselves around me from behind, slow, tender, and unexpected. His chest settles in against my back. With a sigh he plops his chin on my shoulder to look at them with me. Then his lips softly place a kiss on my neck. My turn to sigh with contentment.

My phone rings.

It sounds so loud in the dark stillness. My heart beats so quickly that I feel like I’m about to have a heart attack. I am sure we’re going to get caught as I reach for it and quickly silence it.

“We’ve got to go!” Deran hisses and he leads the way back to the fence.

I am frozen to the spot though as I stare at the caller ID. I am expecting it to be Gerald, who has been waiting for me to return from the restrooms for ages. Or my sister who is back home checking in on me. Or the boys at the club wondering where Deran and I have gone.

I do not expect it to be Craig.


	11. Happiness and Nausea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deran's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those of you who are still reading this and for your patience between chapters.

Adrian and I scale the private property’s fence, jump over to the other side and dash towards the lights and sounds of the party at Long Caye’s bar. What an adrenaline rush! Seeing Adrian’s face light up when he saw the flamingos was priceless, but we weren’t there long enough. Things didn’t go to plan.

We approach the party, but I don’t feel like re-joining it yet. I nudge Adrian and lead him towards the seafront. It’s dark there and secluded. Private. Or so I think until we get there and see a handful of couples who have thought the same thing already. Watching them in the dark making out or lying intimately in each other’s arms feels like a mirror is being brought up to my mind. Only, there is no way I am doing any of those things with Adrian in plain view of others. My skin crawls with fear and anxiety at the thought. I back away from the waterfront. Forget it. 

Adrian has a different idea. I silently follow him as he leads me towards the beach’s men’s public restrooms. The minute we are inside, and the sensor lights turn on, I realise that this is a genius idea. It’s quiet and empty and recently cleaned, ready for tomorrow’s events. Adrian pushes me into the largest cubicle and locks us in.

You could hear a pin drop in here. It’s just the sound of our bodies, our breathing. The whisper of skin on cloth as I move up to him. Correction. I lunge for him. Kiss him urgently as I pull him to me.

“Wait!” He whispers urgently.

“What?”

“That call. It was Craig.”

My heart flips as a wave of anxiety pelts me. What does Craig want? 

“I didn’t pick up.” Adrian shakes his head. “Something tells me he wasn’t trying to reach me.”

I try to shake off the news. I love my brother, but I hate what he represents in my life. I don’t want the call to wreck my positive vibes. I scored another PB today. I am close to going pro. The family-free job that I came up with seems to have gone off without a hitch; no weapons required, no injury. And Adrian and I are good again. Better than good. I am not going to let the fact that Craig is trying to reach me weigh me down. 

“Say something.” Adrian whispers.

I rub my chin. “Ignore him.” I settle my hands on the cubicle door either side of his face. “Okay? If he or my other brothers call, or text just ignore them.”

“Could be important.” Adrian ponders. 

I bet Smurf has ordered them to bring me back but that’s not going to happen. 

“My family’s shit can wait until I get back.” I tell him.

He leans back against the cubicle’s door, looking curious. Looking tempting. His skin is flushed from the run. Warm. The freckles on his shoulders are popping because of all the island sun they’ve caught. He’s wearing that red faded t-shirt with the sides and sleeves cut out that he won’t let go of. It started life as a normal t-shirt years ago but I’m grateful for the recent alteration. It suits his new physique; the muscle definition that he’s built over the past year. 

“Wasn’t Craig coming-” He stutters on his words as I slip a hand into the side to touch the bare skin of his waist and run it round to his back. 

He swallows and gazes at me, “Craig… wasn’t he coming to Belize?” He finishes.

“He was.” I shrug. “But it’s his life. His choice.” I figured that after I bailed on him for the bank job, he decided to bail on me and this trip. 

Anyway, I don’t want to talk or think about my brother. My hands are full of something more important. 

“This…” I stroke Adrian’s bare skin to demonstrate the hole where his sleeve and the side seam of his t-shirt should be. Goosebumps come up where I touch him. “… works for me.”

He smiles. “Didn’t do it for you. It cools me down.” 

I lean into him, his heat, his firm body against mine. He looks at me wide eyed. Lustily. 

“Do you know what else does that?” I ask him.

“What?”

I reach for the button on his jean shorts. “Wearing fewer clothes.”

+

Someone is putting their weight behind knocking on the villa’s main door the morning after. I am startled awake. I gently slip Adrian’s arm from around my middle and get up. Adrian writhes in his sleep, finding a new comfortable position before falling into a deep sleep again. 

I throw on some clothes and get to the door. I can’t believe that no one else in the house has been woken up by the noise. If this was a stick up, we’d be dead.

“Greg.” I say when I open the door and face the photographer; deliberately getting his name wrong. 

This man is more tenacious than the highly virulent strain multi-drug resistant STI Monique apparently has.

Just when I thought I’d gotten rid of this hippie, he reappears.

“Gerald.” He looks behind me through the open door. “I’m here to see Adrian.”

“He’s sleeping.” I create a physical barrier between me and the living room.

“He’s expecting me. We planned to meet this morning.” He taps a sealed envelope against his thigh. “I’ve got something for him.”

“Like I said, he’s sleeping. We had a heavy night last night, but I’ll give it to him when he gets up.”

Gerald hesitates. He might be smarter than he looks. He knows not to trust me. “I was hoping to say bye. I’m flying home today.”

I snatch it from him. “I’ll tell him you stopped by.”

He looks irritated. “Look I know you mean well, Deran. Adrian told me that you are just trying to look out for him after his breakup. But he’s not a kid and I’m not the enemy, okay. I’m not some asshole. So, you can cool it with the thug act.”

Is that what Adrian told him? I don’t want this guy to know the real reason for my protective behavior, but I also don’t want him to think that Adrian is fair game. He isn’t. Not anymore. It annoys me that Gerald might think otherwise.

“Let’s just be civil, okay?” He offers.

I grunt in response. It’s neither a yes nor a no.

He sighs. “Even if you rip that envelope up, could you at least tell him to check that his bank and credit cards are still working?”

It takes a beat to act confused. “Why?”

“A bunch of guys I know on Glovers were having problems with theirs last night and this morning. And there were other people talking about it at breakfast. I think they’re getting the police involved. I heard a group of girls talking about it on this island by the pier. You should check yours.”

“I haven’t used my cards in a couple of days.”

“I brought cash this time so luckily, I’m fine.”

“Did you say that people on your island have had problems?”

“Yeah. They think it’s an inside job. This Island and Glovers are owned by the same people so that makes sense.”

“Fuck. I should check that my stuff’s okay.”

“Yeah. You should stick around today if you’re affected. I’m sure police will want to investigate this island too and you could help them out.”

“Yeah. Good idea.” I nod.

+

Adrian has shifted a little. Taken up more of his bed. That’s where we ended up falling asleep last night. He’s shameless. Butt naked. Lying on his front, using an arm and a pillow to rest his head since my torso isn’t there anymore.

He’s perfect. Everywhere. 

He moves but doesn’t wake up. 

I want to destroy Gerald’s parcel- open it up first to see what’s inside then burn it- but something tells me to be better than that. More trusting. Less Cody-like. More Dolan-like. I walk up to and sit on the edge of the bed next to Adrian. I use an edge of the envelope to stroke over the small of his back and the slope of one butt cheek. He stirs awake.

“Hey.” He whispers sleepily.

“Hi.” I show him the parcel. “Your friend just dropped this off. He’s gone now.” I place it on the small of his back.

“Gone?”

“To catch a flight. He’s not dead.” I nod. “Sadly.”

He rests his head back onto his pillow tiredly and smiles. “That’s dark.”

I stand up and feel my hand gripped by his.

“Where are you going?” He asks.

“I need to speak to the boys about something.”

“And then come back.”

I lean over to kiss him. I’m inches away and his eyes fall shut. He gets that look of anticipation on his face. I take a mental snapshot of him like this. I have learned that good things don’t last so I’m going to savour these moments for as long as I can.

“Definitely.” I am a bad person. I don’t deserve nice things. “Do you want to go to the Lighthouse Reef Atoll today? I feel like being a tourist for a minute.” 

Police will almost certainly swarm this island later. I shouldn’t hang around for that. 

“The Great Blue Hole?”

“Yeah and Half Moon Caye. We could make it a day. Dive and shit. While the guys jack off to the surfer girls...”

“You don’t want to join them at the women’s comp?”

I read between the lines. I know he thinks I might be interested in that kind of thing. Women. Female attention. I’m not though.

I shake my head.

“Then yeah.” He flops over. Looks up at me and ignores the envelope when it falls to the floor. Shameless. Shameless. Shameless, naked, hunk of hotness. He stretches out with all the languidness of a satisfied cat. “Sounds good if we can book it.”

I don’t deserve his smile of happiness.

“I’ll book it.”

+

“Fuck!” Colby tries to control his joy.

“Are you sure?” Ox asks Moss with repressed hope.

“It did seem like more people than I expected.” Moss nods as he stares at his laptop. “That’s like double what we thought we’d get.”

Colby rushes in to kiss his forehead before hugging us all tightly. “You’re a genius, D!”

I smile. “I didn’t know we were hitting Glover’s as well. Apparently Turneffe’s owner bought them out recently.”

“I’m going hard tonight.” Ox says.

“We don’t get the money until we’re back in the US.” Moss says evenly.

“Details.” Ox laughs.

“No. No unusual behaviour while we’re here. No flashing cash. The police have been called.” I warn. “They’ll be on the islands investigating today.” 

“How do you know?” Colby asks.

I reassure him. “A lot of people got hit. It was going to happen. But we’re good, right, Moss?”

“One hundred percent. I just need to get rid of this.” He points at his laptop. “I’m headed to the mainland soon.”

“Good.”

“We should go watch the women’s comp to get off the island.” Ox says.

“I’m surfed out.” Super casually I add, “Me and Adrian are going to do some diving. He was saying that he needs to take some pictures of something other than surfing to show his family when he gets home or some shit. He doesn’t want to go alone.”

+++

Joe runs up to Adrian and me as we head back towards the villa after a long day out in the coral reefs.

“Hey!” He draws to a stop when he gets to us and rests his hands on his knees to catch his breath before continuing. “How was the GBH?”

“Great, man! Seriously awesome!” Adrian’s not been able to stop talking about it since we left. It was awesome.

“It’s a whole new other world down there, isn’t it?” Joe says.

Adrian nods and turns to me. “D’you know what would have been out of this world? If we got to swim with turtles.”

“Is that a thing?” I ask.

“I think so.”

We both turn to Joe. He says, “It’s a thing. I can make it happen if you want.”

“It doesn’t harm them though?” Adrian asks.

“No. Just don’t touch them and let them do their thing and they’ll be alright.”

Adrian looks excited at the thought.

“Look guys. I don’t know how to tell you this, but we’ve had an incident.” Joe looks sheepish. “There is no easy way for me to let you know but it has to be said. I want to start by saying that here at Turneffe we pride ourselves on delivering on the best customer-”

“Jesus, Joe. Just say it.” I say.

Adrian and I are hoping to take advantage of the empty villa before the other guys get back from Long Caye.

“We think that most of our customers’ card details have been stolen. And when I say most, I mean, all customers who gave us those details.”

Adrian looks shocked. “Shit. When?”

Joe frowns. “We can’t say for certain but probably sometime yesterday. We think it was a cyber-attack. I want to-”

“I found out this morning.” I say.

Adrian stares at me. 

“How?” Joe asks.

“A guy that we’ve gotten to know over the past few days told me when he came round to say bye. He’s a freelance sports photographer who was staying on Glovers. He’s been taking pictures of the men’s competition and mentioned it to me in passing. He said that a few people had noticed something wrong with their cards last night. I checked mine this morning and it’s blocked so I panicked. My bank told me it should be okay. They’ve got their fraud team on it. Plus, I’m lucky. My sponsor money should get us through the rest of our vacation so it’s chill for now.” 

Joe looks slightly relieved.”I’m glad to hear that but still sorry for the inconvenience.”

I sigh. “I should have just brought cash like Gerald did. The photographer.” 

Adrian is looking at me so hard. I can feel his eyes boring painful holes into my skin. 

“Hold up.” Joe says. “Did you say that this Gerald guy left today?”

“Yes. He’s from the States.”

“The women’s competition started today. Why isn’t he taking pictures of that?”

I shrug.

“And he wasn’t affected by the robbery because he brought cash.” Joe summarizes.

“What are you implying?” Adrian asks.

“Nothing.” Joe looks at me. “What’s his full name?”

“Gerald Materazzo.” I say.

+

“What?” I ask Adrian, fully aware of why he’s giving me the cold shoulder as he storms into the villa and I follow.

“Joe thinks Gerald did it.” He turns to me in the living room. Angry, red, upset face. He’s already seeing my true colors and they’re ugly as sin. “You threw him under the bus.”

“He’ll roll out of it if he’s innocent.”

“If? You know he’s innocent.”

“Do I?” 

This is the thing with what I do. I know it is wrong, but it is what I do. It’s eat or be eaten. I have to be selfish, commit to the darkness, otherwise I’ll get caught. It is why I have to keep that part of my life separate. It’s why I haven’t gotten Adrian this close to it; why I keep it in a sealed compartment, away from the nice things in my life. If I mix them then, like a rotten fruit placed in the middle of a healthy bowl, eventually, they all turn bad.

“He was at the beach with us all day yesterday.” Adrian never raises his voice and yet he is, right now. “He was on the water more than you were! Did you know that he came round today as a favor to me? I asked if I could get copies of some of the pictures he took of you so that you could have them.”

He shakes his head in disbelief before going into our room, kicking off his flip flops and putting on some sneakers before heading out again.

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“Quick run.” He mutters.

Fuck me.

I let him go. I stew over his reaction. How dare he judge me? He doesn’t know how this game works. How cutthroat it is. How if you are nice and stop and think of other people, you spell your own downfall. What kind of fairy tale does he think crime lives in? Doesn’t he realise that me not telling him, or acting innocent of the crime, is to protect him? The less I say to him the safer he is. He can remain honest and plead ignorance if questioned.

So why am I feeling a hard knot of regret, sadness, and disappointment in my stomach? Adrian has glimpsed a part of me that I am not proud of.

I grab the keys and head to the island resort’s offices looking for Joe.

+

Later I rest up in one of the hammocks in the villa’s private back garden and take a hit of the fat joint I rolled up. I’m totally mellowed out by it but two feelings punch through. Happiness and nausea. Happiness because I did the right thing and that felt good. The nausea is mainly because I broke a Cody golden rule. Be ruthlessness always. Only compromise for the family. I guess some of the nausea is because Adrian said he’d be gone for a quick run but he’s still not back two hours later.

I feel a hand touch my shoulder and open my eyes. I must have fallen asleep.

Adrian is looking down at me.

“You’ll burn.” He says.

I sit up and fall out of the hammock. Again. Like last time. This time I decide to stay where I’ve landed in the sand.

“I didn’t mean to sound preachy earlier.” He starts.

“I know.” I nod. “I told Joe that Gary was at the beach all day and that his own photos and people there will prove it.”

“Gerald.” Adrian breaks a smile. “You managed to get his whole name right when you were framing him.”

I shrug.

“Could that be a bad thing, for you, that you went back to Joe?” He looks worried.

The real answer is ‘yes’ because, by saying something to Joe and then correcting myself, I have stuck my neck above the water. I’ve potentially made myself visible to the investigators if Joe talks to them.

“No.” I say.

“Good.” He gets on the sand next to me then uses my stomach as a pillow when he lies down. I weave my fingers through his hair, like tactile meditation. 

“You’re stoned.”

“Yeah. A bit.”

“Is there any left?”

”Yeah. I’ve hidden it. Do you want me to roll you one?”

”No.” He makes himself comfortable laying on me. “This is cool.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What are your thoughts. I would love to know!


	12. Copy cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrian's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: smut but always to drive plot forward ; )

** Belize **

I’ve woken up early. I realise why only when I stretch out and come up against another body in my bed. Deran, in his sleep, has placed his arm across my chest causing a gentle restriction to my movements. It’s strange how unconscious this move of his is. How it is only when he slumbers that his body does what it chooses not to when he is awake. It’s also strange for me to share my bed. It’s only been a week after all but we have slept together every night since that first night.

I turn to face him, hoping that he won’t wake up as I adjust in his arm’s embrace. The only sounds in the room come from the revolving ceiling fan above our heads and his gentle breathing next to me. The rest of the house seems dead if the stillness in the air is anything to go by.

Deran’s face is point blank with mine, his body intimate against my own. He is handsome. Not just in a conventional way. He has a collection of traits that punch me in the gut… in a good way. He’s got penetrating blue eyes that pull me into their intensity once they’re locked on me. They’re mesmerising. He has the most dynamic facial expressions. Once you’ve figured them out, they reveal everything he is feeling with a single look, whether he means to or not, even when his words tell you something different.

He is the most confident person I know when he isn’t around his family and made to feel like the runt of the litter. He is smart, quick, and decisive. He is fun, funny, and goofy. And then there is his body. It makes me look twice and has done for years. It’s slim, toned, and agile. Full of pent-up energy. Dangerous. Alive. Electric. Even now, as he sleeps. All these things make him attractive. Sexy.

“Morning.” His tired whisper jolts me from my thoughts and my actions. I was feeling him up and hadn’t noticed. My hand was wondering over his chest, repeatedly, over the fine few blond hairs of his chest. Over his nipples. His sensitive nipples. They are hot buttons of pleasure. Something new I have discovered about him since being on the island.

I stop and pull my hand back. 

“What were you doing?” He murmurs.

“Nothing.” I place my hand over my mouth and fake a yawn. “Just woke up.”

“Excited about Caracol?” He rolls his eyes.

We have committed to visiting Belize’s largest Mayan Temple after Moss expressed interest and bought us all tour tickets for today.

“It’s not swimming with turtles.” I reply, matching his pained expression.

“We could skip it.” He smiles.

I smile because he must be joking. Moss wouldn’t have it. After a moment’s silence I realise he is being serious so I say, "Nah. The trek through the rain forest will be epic."

Deran grips my hand and places it right where it was before I noticed he was awake. Back on his chest. 

“That was nice.” He whispers. He caught me feeling him up while he slept. Way to go on the creepiness factor, Ade!

We’ve been sharing a bed. His one night then mine. We didn’t talk about it. Didn’t plan it. It’s a habit we have fallen into. During the day, we make the most of our vacation, hanging out with our friends, being very bro to each other. At night, once we close and lock our bedroom door, things shift. We pick up where we left off the night before. We discover and explore a different aspect of our friendship. Can we still call it that, a friendship, after what we have done?

My hand is wandering again, slowly making its way down his body. The muscles of Deran’s stomach contract and relax against my touch. He is anticipating the path I’m taking. I stare into his unwavering eyes. He swallows. He buries his face into my neck and sighs when my fingers reach the hairs above his cock. He kisses me breathlessly when I finally take him in my grasp. He swells in my hand as I stroke him gently then more firmly. I feel him grow rigid, taking pleasure in his sounds.

I stop. 

“Quiet.” I whisper and nudge my head towards the door.

He bites his lower lip. I fist his cock and glide down his shaft, watching as the fold of skin covering the tip of his dick unfurrows and falls back, revealing the thick head of his cock. It’s fascinating and new. I glide up and watch the head disappear. Again and again. Hearing him groan with pleasure.

He shifts our positions, head to toe and side by side. One look is all I need to understand. He follows my lead. He touches me the way I touch him, gentle yet deliberate. I’m hard already. Sue me. 

I nod to tell him ‘yeah, keep doing that’ instead of trusting my vocal cords to make a sound that doesn’t embarrass me. He matches every stroke of mine with his. It’s intoxicating. It’s harmony. When I replace my hand with my mouth, he does the same. The matching rhythm is intoxicating. We’re in sync. Different but the same. Giving and receiving pleasure in equal measure.

I move a spit slicked hand to play with his balls and then trace further back still. Deran pauses. He understands what I want to do but he doubts that it is something he’ll like. I know he will because I do, so I take him deep into my mouth, down as far as I can. A spoonful of sugar to help the medicine go down. I gently circle my spit slicked finger around his hole at the same time then push it into him slowly. He moans so loud when I hit that nub of sensation that I assume he has never had it touched before. 

I hush him again and restart. He is a perfect copycat. I feel his gentleness reflect mine. One finger. Slow and attentive. But he doesn't stop there. Two. He gently pushes them into me while giving me head at an achingly languid erotic pace. I rut against him forcing my dick and his fingers deeper. Aiming for more pleasurable sensations than the incredible ones I am already feeling. I beg with every part of me for more. I want him desperately. 

He comes up for breath, so I crane my head to him to check he’s okay. 

“Does that feel good?” He asks breathlessly.

Is he on crack? Isn't obvious that it does? I nod because I can’t say anything. I am too stuttered by pleasure to be coherent.

“I want to learn.” He adds. 

My voice is husky and low. Not my own. “Yeah. It’s very good.”

I smile at his smug expression. Thinks he’s a don now.

I kiss his cock and murmur. “So we can keep using our dicks as mikes or we can…”

I don’t get to finish the sentence because he takes me back into his mouth and pushes his fingers deep into me again.

+

Our harsh breaths settle as our adrenaline levels come back to normal. This feels good; cooling down together, fresh from climax, skin on skin, blended. The fact that he doesn’t pull away or go weird on me. Not like after that first time at my place.

I run my hand down his softening dick and he jerks harshly, still too sensitive so soon after coming.

I like your dick.

He chokes a laugh. “What?”

My cheeks redden. 

“You said that out loud.” He confirms.

I stare up at the ceiling fan’s rapidly rotating blades then close my eyes. For a split second I wish that thing could fall on me and slice me up into pieces. 

Deran’s lips press against my shoulder as his fingers run across my sweaty chest.

“What’re you thinking about?” He whispers.

“My shame.” 

I can sense his grin. “You’re wishing the fan fell on you.”

“Yeah.”

“Dark.” He puffs out his chest with pride and gives me a cocky smile. “What were you saying about my dick again?”

“Fuck off.”

He chuckles and moves himself to lie on top of me. He arranges the bed sheet so that it cocoons our naked bodies. He plants a gentle kiss on my mouth. He’s never looked at me the way he is now, with an expression that takes my breath away. It calms my embarrassment.

This feels super comfortable. I wrap my arms around him and pull him in for a kiss. As it deepens my mind drifts further south, anatomically speaking. I have never been with a guy with foreskin. It’s not common here. In a state where nearly all boys, me included, get circumcised in infancy before we can decide for ourselves what to do with our bodies, how did he get away intact? It’s new to me. Different. Fascinating. And I suspect that it has everything to do with Smurf.

I pull away from our kiss. His mother popping into my head has reminded me of the reality of our situation.

“It’s crazy.” I tell him with a small smile, as I comb back his hair with my fingers only for it to fall forward into my face again. “Our time here has gone by so quickly.” He looks at me blankly so I add, “Can you believe we’ll be back in So Cal in a couple of days?” 

His face drops, as if I’ve thrown a bucket of ice-cold water at him. 

“What?” I ask, taking in his expression. He’s upset about what I said but why?

He silently rolls off me and creates physical distance between us in the bed. “You could have been here two weeks.”

His tone is firm, not aggressive but it amplifies a regret of mine which has been getting bigger since being here on vacation. The fact that I turned down his offer to fly out sooner with him. If I hadn’t made such a rash decision to turn down his flight ticket, we could have had a whole extra week together, alone in this paradise, before the other guys arrived. 

He sits up and looks around the bed for his underwear. I try to catch his eye to understand what he’s thinking but he does a good job of avoiding my gaze as he grabs his underwear and slips them on.

“We can’t lie in bed all day.” He says briskly.

Why has his attitude flipped like a switch?

When he finally glances at me briefly, I see fear barely held in by an expression of deliberate stiff stillness. That’s when the penny drops. My words have reminded him that he’ll be home soon and will have to confront his family, especially his mom. Having some time and space away from them had been a major driver behind taking this vacation abroad.

His back is a fortified wall; rigid and straight as he remains perched at the edge of the bed, looking away from me. I rest my hand on it hoping that’s enough to break it down a little.

“Your mom’s a lot.” I start, trying to choose my words carefully. “But in the end, she’s just a five-foot, ninety-pound middle-aged woman with a bark that’s probably louder than her bite. And you are younger, smarter, tougher. When you get back, you should stand up to her and tell her how you really feel and that you’re done working for her.” 

He glances back at me. His brow is creased. He looks about to say something. He tries to start his sentence a couple of times before finally saying, “That is not why I’m -”

There is a loud knock on our door that cuts off the rest of his sentence.

“Yo! Are you guys up yet or what?” Moss calls out. 

I stare at Deran as I shout. “Yeah!”

“Good! Just making sure. Water taxi leaves in 30 minutes. Don’t be late.”

“‘Kay!”

“I’m making breakfast, but you’ll miss it if you keep hitting ‘snooze’!” The obvious happiness in Moss’s voice caused by the prospect of seeing some ruins today, is in complete contrast to the frostiness in our room. 

I listen out for his retreating footsteps then turn back to Deran. His kiss surprises me. It’s deep, needy, thirsty. Confusing. He pulls away just as unexpectedly and grabs his bath towel as he heads for the bathroom. I am left to fall back into bed and contemplate how or if I can help him find a better solution to how he handles his family than his tendency to run away from them.

+

I realise that I came to the wrong conclusion about what has angered and caused fear in Deran. I assumed it was Smurf because all his problems seem to track back to his mother. However, I was wrong. As the day goes on, I know that it is about me. He is ending what we’ve started before we fly back home. 

He has barely exchanged two sentences with me since this morning. He has kept a physical distance as if my touch is suddenly disgusting and has avoided all eye contact with me. There were occasions when I caught him looking at me only for him to look away immediately with a look of complete displeasure or distraction when I turned to face him.

By the time we get back to the island after a long day on the mainland, I am done with his attitude. I decide not to join him and the guys for dinner at the restaurant and go for a run instead.

I blast some music through my earphones and feel my anger and disappointment lift slightly as my adrenaline surges. I focus on the simple act of putting one foot in front of the other. I set a brisk pace as I make my way around the island on a now familiar circuit that I take at the start of every day.

The sun sets, turning the sky a pink-purple hue that reminds me of the flamingos Deran showed me when we were on Long Caye. I run past rows of villas, by the seashore that faces Long Caye’s Atoll and right by the island’s bar.

When I run past the restaurant, I see Deran sitting at one of the outdoor tables with the boys and some girls that I recognise from the women’s surfing competition. They all look like they are having a great time if the loud laughter that filters through my earphones from their table is anything to go by.

I try not to stare but I can’t help it. I slow down as I home in on Deran. His arm is casually flung over the back of the seat that one of the girls is sitting in. When he sees me, unlike earlier in the day, he doesn’t look away. He tracks me with his eyes as I run past. He is the only one not to say ‘hi’. Asshole. 

“Adrian!”

I feel a jab in my side.

Eric Connor runs up to me from behind before falling in step by my side and matching my slower pace. He's out on a jog too.

I pull my earphones out. “Hi.”

“I didn’t think I’d catch up to you! I’ve been trailing you for the past fifteen minutes.” He chuckles breathlessly.

“Sorry. I hadn’t noticed.”

“I don’t think I have seen you out jogging.” 

“I normally go in the morning.” I say and I pick up my pace again. “But I had some tension I needed to work out.” 

“I know the feeling.” He nods. “Mind if I join you?”

I’d rather he didn’t but I say, “Sure.”

We head towards the hut where the snorkelling and kayaking gear is kept. It’s strange how familiar this island feels despite having only been here a week. It’s small enough to make me feel like I have grown to know it like a second home in many ways. Jogging here is peaceful. Nothing like Oceanside where, whether it’s morning or evening, I am joined by a swarm of other joggers and I must weave myself through throngs of people at the Strand to avoid being body checked. 

On any other day I would be happy to hang out with a surf legend like Connor, but tonight his company is not welcome.

He throws me a huge smile. “Shit, mate. Slow down! My legs are still jelly from the comp!”

“I thought you’d gone back to Australia.”

“Nah. My bird was in the women’s comp. Had to support her. We were always staying on after. For a bit. You know.”

“How’d she do?”

“Quarters.” He says, shortening his sentences to manage his breathlessness. “How’s Deran doing?”

“Yeah good.”

“He’s pissed he didn’t win.” 

“You’d have to ask him.”

“It wasn’t a question. When you get that close… that you can taste victory… it blows when it escapes you.”

He suddenly grabs my shoulder and grinds to a stop. He places his hands on his knees to catch his breath and gasps,

“Shit! I'm going to need to take a break.”

I jog on the spot. Can’t stop. I don’t want to think about Deran giving me the cold shoulder after we had sex, and turning his attention to pretty, athletic girls as I am nothing.

My phone rings. Out of a need for diversion from my thoughts I answer, without thinking.

I go pale the minute I see the caller ID.

“Finally, dude!”

Shit. I nearly cancel the call when I hear Craig’s familiar voice.

“Have you been screening my calls?” He asks.

“No.” I say too quickly.

He chuckles humourlessly. “Deran told you to, didn’t he?”

I decide that staying silent is better than lying a second time. 

“You’re loyal, I’ll give you that.” Craig says. “Look, I just want to make sure he’s okay. Last time I saw him he was in bad shape. Chain smoking. Drinking to oblivion. He’s still got his phone off so I can’t reach him and I'm going crazy here.”

“Yes, he is. He's fine.”

“Are you still in Belize?” I stay mute so he says, “I’ll take that as a yes. I heard he made the finals."

"Yeah."

Craig gets stoked. "I can't believe my little bro beat Igarashi in the quarters! That must have blown everyone’s mind!”

I remember the craziness that followed the quarters. Nobody expected Deran to beat one of the favourites to win. 

“It was wild.” I can’t help but feel pride. “He killed it.”

“That’s my bro!” Craig sounds equally proud, but his tone takes a sudden shift. “Look could you tell him I am sorry I couldn’t be there. I wanted to but… I... just tell him that I really need to speak to him. Okay? It’s important.”

I can hear the urgency in his voice. Whatever it is that he needs to tell his brother is serious and pressing.

“We’re flying back in a couple of days so you can tell him whatever it is soon.” I reassure him. 

“Really?” Craig sounds relieved.

“Yeah.”

“Good. Thanks, Ade.”

”For what?”

“For looking out for him. You’re a real friend.”

He ends the call abruptly and I stare at my phone wondering what Craig needs to tell Deran.

“Sounded intense.” Nick is curious.

“Just a friend from back home.” I shrug it off. “Do you mind if I jog alone?” I ask as I start jogging on the spot again. “Sorry, but my mind’s all over the place today.”

He looks disappointed. “Yeah. Sure. Hey. What are you doing tomorrow? Surf’s still pretty sweet at Long Caye if you’re interested.”

I haven’t surfed since getting here. Deran has needed a break from surf and he is the only one of our group of friends remotely interested.

“Yeah. Definitely.” I say immediately.

“We should go early though. To avoid a crowd. Seven? Is that too early for you?”

I nod with a grin. “It’s fine. I’ll do pretty much anything for a good swell!”

He breaks out into a wide smile as he gives me his mobile number then says, “Okay! I’ll see you by the pier bright and early. I’ll hire us some jet skis.” 

+

By the time I run back past the restaurant, the table Deran was sitting at is empty. The bar next door is full, so it is impossible to properly scan the crowd for him. I spot Moss and Colby on the dance floor but not Deran and Ox. The slight improvement in my mood caused by the run is instantly cancelled by unpleasant thoughts. What if he isn’t there because he has taken someone behind the bar like he did with me at Long Caye? What if I go back to the villa and he’s in the living room all over some girl? What if he has taken her to our room and I catch them in bed?

I do not want to return to the villa yet, dreading what I might find, so I head for the beach near the pier and lie down on the warm but cooling sand. It is completely dark as I feel my body return to its normal physiological state.

I contemplate sleeping here for the night while listening to one of his online playlists that he excitedly told me to check out a few months back. I watch the faded moon and gentle undulation of the dark blue water and listen to the mix of local So Cal bands that he’s excited about. I think too much and come up with how I have got what Deran and I have completely wrong.

I thought that Belize was the beginning of a relationship, a strong romantic extension to our deep and long-lasting friendship. Instead for Deran it has been an opportunity to experiment with his sexuality in a risk-free manner without any intention to make this more than a bit of shameful fun in the shadows, away from the judgement of his family and friends. And he picked me because he knew I would never betray his confidence. 

Now that our time here is coming to an end, he is full of regret over what he has allowed himself to do with me. I am a source of shame. A reality check every time he faces me. That is why he is trying to end it so that when we go back to O’side I can stop being a constant reminder of an urge that he was once unable to control.

The cool sea breeze fans across my sweat socked top. It’s too cold to sleep here tonight so I get up and head home. I might be angry at Deran but I am not going to risk my health over it. 

It’s just before midnight when I enter the villa. It’s quiet and dark so I assume no one is back yet. I am shocked, therefore, to enter my room and find Deran asleep in his bed. Or at least I think he is until he shifts under the sheets and turns on a side lamp.

It casts a shadow on one half his face giving him a foreboding appearance.

“Where have you been?” He asks. 

“Jogging.”

“For four hours?”

“Then I hung out at the beach.”

He hesitates then mutters, “I was worried.”

Yeah right. “You looked it.” I say sarcastically.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“At the restaurant.” I sigh as I reconsider having this conversation now. “Nothing. I’m tired. I’m going to take a shower and go to bed.”

When I am washed and back in the room Deran is sitting up, looking at me like a puppy who knows it has fucked up and is seeking an apology from its owner.

I make sure that my bath towel is secure around my waist then use a second one to dry my hair.

“I think the guys will be out for at least a couple more hours.” He begins.

I throw him an expression that asks him what he wants me to do with that bit of information. I spray my armpits with deodorant. I throw my bath towel onto the floor, get into my bed and turn onto my side, my back facing him.

After several minutes of tense silence, I feel him move.

My bed dips as he takes a seat on the edge. He sighs as I press my eyes tightly shut.

My eyes spring open when he peels my bed sheet from my head and shoulders slowly. There is plenty of time for me to stop him, but I don’t. I feel the press of his lips between my shoulder blades followed by a whispered,

“Sorry.”

He inches the sheet lower still and kisses over my ribs. He repeats himself. “I’m sorry, Ade.”

And then lower still where my back dips in. He stops vocalising and lets his kisses do the apologising. It is not enough. Nowhere near. He also owes me an explanation for his cold shoulder treatment. 

I should be tough and not give in to this blatant tactic. I should remember that this is just a way for him to fuck around with me one last time before he puts this vacation behind him. I should resist the overwhelming feelings in my body as he touches inch after inch of me with his lips.

I shouldn’t be turning to face him and pulling him into a kiss. I should quiet the part of me that thinks that the fact that he is here with me and not out there with some nameless, leggy surfer chick should give me hope. I should ask him what happens when we get back to our normal lives. I should be strong enough and value myself enough to not settle for being a dirty little secret. 

Things heat up between us quickly, too quickly for me to do what I am supposed to do.

I feel carnal desperation. I want him, more now than I have before. I think it is because tonight feels final. This could be the last time we connect like this. We only have one night in Belize after this. Who knows if tomorrow he chooses to go cold on me again? If so, tonight is our last night.

So far, I have been his teacher but tonight he is stamping his authority. He pushes away the sheet separating us and gets on top of me. He possesses my mouth hungrily while pushing out my legs and bringing them to circle him so that he can settle between them. I feel his cock nudge aimlessly against my buttocks as we kiss and press against each other.

He blows me until I am so close to shooting that I grab the back of his head, in reflex, to push my cock further down his mouth before I cum. He let’s go before I do and watches my frustration. 

He turns me over so that I rest on my stomach. He traces a hand down my back. I reach my hand behind me seeking out his cock. When his hands settle on my butt one of mine wraps around his dick. I don’t think I have ever wanted to be fucked more than I do in this moment. It’ll be my first time with him. Is it a complete first for him with a man? I suspect so. He spits on my hole and I shudder. He was paying attention yesterday. I feel him slowly prepare me with his fingers. It’s an irresistible, toe curling delight. I curve up to his plunges, matching his pace and using the friction of the sheets to rub my dick at the same time. When the shaft of his cock lazily glides over me I push away from him and press back into the bed.

I can’t completely lose my head, as tempting as he feels against me. “Get a condom.” I whisper heatedly.

I have never seen a man move so quickly or accurately. He dives for my travel bag and takes out my condoms and lube from an inner pocket with a zipper, with an economy of motion of a man who has been impatiently waiting to use the knowledge of where I keep my stash.

I lie on my back as I watch him sheath up his girthy dick. He brings my legs up again and rubs lube on me. I help rub some on him. He flips me over again, helps me to get on my hands and knees and gets behind me all in one fluid motion. 

I try to change our positions again, to lie on my back so that we can face each other, so I can see him when we do it. I want to see him but he grips my hip with a firm impatient hold and I feel the insistent pressure of the head of his dick against me. I push back onto him and bite against the initial spasm of pain. I should take him a little slower, allow myself to adjust, but I need him with every bit of my body, urgently. I bare the sting and indulge in equal levels of desire and pleasure as he pushes in until he is fully seated in me. His groans match my moans and his hand reaches around to grip my cock, rock hard and in need of its own attention. The weight of his body on my back pushes me down into the bed as he begins to thrust into me rhythmically with deep penetrating strokes that challenge my ability to not act completed lusted out. 

He hugs me from behind, pleasures me and kisses me with soothing, lingering beguiling kisses. I feel him build a sweat, get breathless and heated as he envelops me and whispers wet sounds in my ear that I can’t make out but turn me on. I lose all sense of myself, what I deserve and what I should and shouldn’t accept from him. I am in the middle of a whirlpool that is being with Deran. In it, I forget all rational thought until all that is left is a perfect storm of passionate togetherness that I wish I could live in forever.

+

I am being poked in my side so I reluctantly open an eye. It’s the middle of the night and Deran is lying by my side, wide awake and staring at me.

“At the restaurant…” He whispers, then pauses. His eyes widen even more in the dark.

I am still half asleep and disorientated. Achy and used up from our night’s activities. My eyes can barely stay open as I wait for him to continue.

“… I wasn’t interested in anyone.” He shuffles closer to me and I wake up more. 

I can see him gathering his thoughts, thinking of how to say what he wants to say next. Words, emotional ones from the heart, don’t come easy to Deran. He places the knuckle of his index finger over my heart and smooths it over my skin. “I don’t want this to stop.” He breathes out heavily. “This morning, I realised that it will.”

“Doesn’t have to.” I tell him.

He seems shocked by that proposition, as if it hadn’t entered his mind as an option. He kisses me and wraps his arms around me so tightly that I think this is the only way he feels he can make sure that I stay with him. He dips his head into the crook of my neck and after a while I feel his whole body relax against mine.

“Okay.” I hear him say against my skin.


	13. I've Been Thinking About The Mule Job

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deran's POV

“I should get ready.” Adrian whispers. He doesn’t follow through though. He remains in bed, by my side, close enough to feel his heat.

“Okay.” I finally say because I can’t bring myself to ask him to stay in bed a little longer. “Not sure if it’ll be worth it though. Best swells are gone.”

“Nick says they’re still good.” He rolls away from me, taking away the comfort of his physical presence; the weight of him, the scent, the warmth. He sits on the edge of the bed and turns to face me. “Should be fun. I’ve been itching to go.”

I reach for a cigarette. “With Connor? Do you think he’s trying to check you out?” I ask.

Adrian frowns. “Check me out?”

“He knows you surf. He remembers you from juniors. Maybe he’s trying to see if you’re a threat in case you decide to compete next year.” I place the cigarette between my lips and reach for my lighter.

Adrian seems against this idea. “Not everyone has an ulterior motive for doing things. I think he just wants company.”

He stands up, just missing the stroke of my fingers by a millisecond. I was too late in deciding to touch him. He’s built to be tempting. His six-foot smooth, tanned perfectly sculpted naked body is irresistible. I stare at the nape of his neck, his shoulder blades, toned back, butt, legs and calves. He gets on the tips of his toes and stretches his arms upward releasing a groan of satisfaction.

He invites me to join them.

“Did Connor invite me?” I say absentmindedly, toying with the unlit cigarette, while distracted by the flex of his muscles and the plains of his figure.

“Does he need to?” He relaxes out of his stretch and turns to face me with a smile. He must know how inviting he looks.

I imagine us back in O’side, being as free as we are being now, naked; with me lying down looking at him while he stands chatting with me with not a care in the world. My fantasy doesn’t end well. I picture his shocked roommate walking in on us at his apartment or Smurf or one of my brothers going ape shit at discovering us at my place. I imagine Pope seeing us. I don’t ever want to face how he would react to finding out that his little brother is a fag.

That is what I am. No point ignoring it anymore. This trip has proved what I have known deep down for a long time. Being with Adrian, feeling what I have felt, has made it undeniable. I’m just not ready or prepared to announce it to the world. Not sure if I ever will be.

“Will you come with me?” Adrian asks again.

I nearly say yes because there are few things I enjoy in the world more than surfing with Adrian. Even the idea of having Connor there doesn’t completely spoil the offer. 

However, I say no. An idea had popped into my head and I need Adrian gone to put it into motion.

I place and balance my unlit cigarette between my lips again. “You go ahead. I’m … I’m going to smoke this then go back to sleep.”

If Adrian is disappointed, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he picks up a bath towel and casually heads for the bathroom, while I walk towards the doors to the garden for a smoke.

I am prevented from stepping outside when the bath towel he was holding hits my arm then falls to the floor. Wordlessly he looks at me then disappears into the bathroom, keeping its door open. I hear him turn the shower on. It’s not the only thing he turns on. I know an invitation when I see one and this is one I can’t say no to. I drop my lighter and cigarette without thinking and join him.

+

We take longer in the shower than either of us expected so he is late for Connor… Adrian’s fault, not mine. Not that I am complaining. I feel energised and satisfied. It’s a feeling that is explosive but unfamiliar to me. It disturbs and excites me.

Once Adrian leaves to meet Connor, I go to the second bedroom to wake Ox, Moss and Colby.

I walk noisily across their room and pull back their curtains to let light in. Ox and Colby wake up immediately. They slowly and tiredly look at me with a mixture of confusion and annoyance while Moss continues to snore in his small fold out bed.

“I’ve been thinking about the mule job.” I begin.

“What about it?” Ox asks.

“You should do it if you still want to.”

His brows furrow. “What’s made you change your mind? Last time you made it sound like taking drugs across the border was a bad idea.”

“I shouldn’t have told you what you can and cannot do. But I still don’t want to be part of it. If you guys want to do it though….” I shrug to mean ‘go for it’.

Colby sits up. “Why don’t you want to be part of it?”

“It’s not the way I work. You know that. I work with people I know and trust. I don’t know the people you are dealing with. And I only do jobs if I need to. No stupid risks. Right now, I don’t need to. I’ve got runner up money from the competition and some leftover from my sponsors for this trip. I can afford to wait for my cut from the card job to come through.”

Colby looks uncertainly at Ox before asking me if I think their plan is a bad idea.

“I don’t know enough to tell if it is or not.” I reply.

They run through it, going over some of the same ground they went over the first time. I am not any more reassured that they have a bullet proof plan now than I was the first time they explained it to me, even with added information.

My friends don’t know it but I will turn the job down even if the plan is airtight. For me, the aim of this isn’t money.

“You plan to fly with drugs in your carry-on bags?” I try to keep disbelief out of my voice.

“Yes. Hiding in plain sight in bottle sand art. You know, like the souvenirs you can buy in Dubai.” Colby is smiling as if it’s genius. It’s not. “You can get them personalised.”

“We’re in Belize.” I point out.

“Yeah but they do them too and no one questions tourists taking souvenirs home.”

“What do you think?” Ox asks. “It will work, right? Our guy says it’s solid.”

“It might work.” I concede. But it might not. “Are you flying back with Adrian?”

They think about this, remembering that they all bought tickets together. They are on the same flight home with him.

“Yes. But… we just won’t tell him anything about it.” Ox decides. “He doesn’t need to know.”

“What if you get caught. He’ll be with you.” I tell them.

“We won’t get caught.” Colby says confidently.

These guys aren’t a patch on my family. The Cody family pick jobs carefully. If a job is too risky, we don’t do it. If it is worth the risk, we make a backup plan, sometimes two. We plan for failure; what to do if a job goes bad. We know that even the best laid plans can go to shit, and we factor that in. It is for that reason that so far not even one of us have been arrested, not since juvie anyway.

“You might get caught.” I tell my friends. “One of the bottles could break or security could randomly select you for a bag search. There could be a sand leak and your travel bags could test positive to a drug swab. Sniffer dogs could catch you. The guys you are getting your shit from could be undercover and just waiting to bust you. When you’re travelling, you all need to know what is going on and what to do to if things go wrong.”

They stare at me in silence then at each other and start a discussion with each other as though I am not here.

“What do we do about Adrian?”

They consider scenarios between themselves. That chances are things will be fine and Adrian will travel without realising that his companions are committing a felony. That if things take a bad turn, they could either dissociate from him in attempt to keep him out of trouble or deny that he is involved if he gets arrested alongside them. They accept that if he were to get arrested their words would not likely help Adrian’s case for innocence. They discuss how having him there might be a major disadvantage if they were to need to make a quick escape because he wouldn’t know what is going on. On the flip side, telling him their plans would make him an accomplice and therefore part of the crime.

Ox looks at me. “We’re going to have to tell Ade that he can’t fly with us. We’ll make up some excuse. We’ll keep our tickets, but he’ll need to get back on another flight.”

Colby has a suggestion for me. “It can’t be weird. You could persuade him to stay back for a few extra days. Make it sound like it’s a chance for you guys to get some surfing in at Long Caye before he gets back for school or some shit.”

I protest. I tell them that I have my own prebooked flight tomorrow which leaves a little later than theirs. I insist that I want to get back to O’side and that I really can’t stay in Belize any longer because of commitments back home.

“How else are we going to convince him to stay here, dude? He won’t stay here alone.” Ox reasons. 

I act like I’m done with the island. The surfing. Adrian.

Colby offers to cover the cost of accommodation for the extra days with their drug money and reminds me that they are asking us to stay on some idyllic sandy beach for a little longer. “Doesn’t sound like prison.” He adds.

I tell them that payment isn’t necessary. That if it’s the only option then I’ll stay a while longer with Adrian.

“So we have a plan?” Ox seeks our agreement.

I nod reluctantly.

Colby is more enthusiastic. “That would work.”

They smile so I smile.

“We need to get to the mainland now if we want to pull this off in time.” Colby states.

I slap Moss on the side of his head to wake him up. When he’s awake enough to pay attention, we fill him in on the plan.

I say to all three. “I’ll tell Adrian and keep him busy for the rest of the day while you guys do what you need to do today.”

+

By the time Adrian gets back from surfing, just before lunchtime, the guys have been gone for a couple of hours. They said that, with all they must organise, they aren’t going to be back on the island before the evening which is perfect. It means that I get a few hours alone with Adrian and have a chance to tell him that we are going to stay on vacation a little longer without my friends getting in our way.

I don’t count on him stepping into the villa with Connor. They are both riding on an adrenalized cloud nine. They sit on the sofa in the living room and trip over each, telling me about the waves they rode, the conditions, the tricks, and manoeuvres, how awesome each other is. Adrian’s is buzzing so hard with excitement that I feel a twinge of jealousy that I am not part of the reason.

Connor grins as he points at him while speaking to me. “He killed it, dude! I told him to compete next year!”

Adrian takes the compliment but denies he is ready or good enough. They go back to sharing anecdotes, more memories of the morning, past surfing stories. They finally pause long enough for me to speak so I update Adrian.

“Ox, Colby and Moss have gone to the mainland for the day. They wanted to, uh, do some souvenir shopping and stuff.”

“Souvenir shopping?”

“Yeah.”

“And strip club?”

I shrug in response.

“That’s a shame. It would have been good to do something together on our last day.” Adrian doesn’t sound like he means it even a little bit. “Should we join them?”

“We could or we can hang around here.” My eyes can’t help but glance at our bedroom. “I was thinking we could stay on the island.”

He breaks into a smile. “That works for me.”

“Cool.” Connor looks between the two of us. “Don’t know about you guys but I’m starving. We should get lunch. You in? It’s on me.”

Adrian and I stare at each other. Long. Hard. I am disappointed when I see a flash of apology on his face before he pats Connor on the back and says, “Sure why not. I could eat.”

+

We go to the bar for lunch. It is less busy than the restaurant at this time of day. When Adrian goes to the bathroom, after our meal and before we get into a session of drinking and kicking back, Connor says,

“Nice guy.”

I agree. “I’ve known him since we were kids.”

“Crazy good surfer.” He adds.

I nod.

He leans in as if ready to share a secret. What he says doesn’t seem worthy of his whisper. He’s known Mindy since they were kids too, he says, and they started dating before they hit their teens. 

“I didn’t realise I liked her when we were little kids. It crept up on me and slapped me across the face one day. Like one minute, she thought I was smelly, and I thought she was a brat and the next minute we were making out in the school playground.” He confesses.

“Mate, I felt my heart in my throat that day!" Connor continues his confessional. "Like, it was just a kiss but it's as if something crazy happened between us. I never saw her in the same away again.” He laughs in embarrassment saying that he doesn’t mean it to sound soft but his head’s all over the place and he needs to let out what's on his mind.

He explains that recently they have been fighting. A lot. Over little and big things. Every time they make up it feels like a small temporary plaster hiding a bigger wound. It’s been stressing him out because every confrontation creates a larger void. He has realised that their relationship is fallible. That it can break and end. Knowing that has freaked him out.

“Like, I suddenly realise that she could leave me.”

His words have resonance. They hit a frequency that I have become familiar with recently. I have been living with the horrible threat of losing someone vital and important to me and not knowing how to stop it.

I wonder why he is telling me, though. We’re not friends. We’re barely acquaintances. Maybe that’s why he feels able to share.

“Where is she?”

“Back at our villa.” He explains. “Angry and stewing. We had another fight yesterday.” He looks washed out by it.

I frown. “I’m not an authority but maybe try apologising instead of avoiding her by hanging out with friends.”

“First of all, who said we are friends?” He smiles.

“Shit, did I say friends? My bad.”

“And second of all … I don’t know. I don’t know what to say to her. I don’t know where this is going. Do you know what I mean? Maybe she’s done with me.”

Yes. I know what he’s feeling. Friends since childhood. Check. Turned into something more. Check. Terrified it’s over ( _and_ that it’s not). Check. Not sure what the future holds? Check.

Connor stands up suddenly. Anxious. “I’m going. I need to talk to her.”

He throws some cash on the table and walks off before I have a chance to answer. When Adrian returns, he is confused.

“Where’s Nick?”

“He’s gone back to Mindy. They had a fight.”

“Oh. So that’s what it is.” He falls into his chair. His foot accidentally kicks mine under the table as he stretches his legs out.

We could stay at the bar for some day drinking. We could, but Adrian’s decided to kick off his flip flops and let his foot linger on me. His sandy toes slowly and discreetly rub over the top of my foot then up and down the lower part of my leg.

“Did he tell you what it was about?” He asks.

“No.” I swallow hard. His foot play is a trigger for memories of all his intimate caresses. It’s distracting, stimulating and, although it is unlikely to catch anyone’s eye unless they choose to glance under our table, too bold for me in such an open exposed space.

He pulls back and sits up, as if reading my thoughts. “I think I want to go back to the villa.”

“Yes.”

+

We don’t get as far as the bedroom. We climax lying half on and off the sofa in the living room.

We didn’t have time to take our clothes off. Our t-shirts are still on, our shorts and underwear are hanging around ankles. I have collapsed on top of him, having stood behind him as he knelt on the seat of the sofa. We are both panting, trying to catch our breaths. My brain feels fuzzy, my legs are wobbly. I don’t think I can hold my standing weight for much longer. My warm, sweaty chest is flush against his back. I can feel his aftershocks shudder through me as our harsh breaths fill the quiet room. I begin to soften in him as I lick his ear and suck it gently into my mouth, because it is close and every part of him is tempting.

“Fuck.” I whisper.

My soul feels as if it has been sucked out of me and poured into him. He has all of me right now. I have offered him all that I am, and he has taken it all. I have never felt so satisfied even though I feel lost, disembodied, and totally consumed by him. I pull out of him slowly, roll off and fall onto one end of the sofa. It takes him a minute to move to settle his head on my stomach as he lies the length of the couch. He curls his hand around my arm when I place it on his chest. He uses the other to reach round and blindly pull the condom off me.

There is something so artless yet real about the moments right after having sex. We must look a messy picture of franticness as we come down from the high and physically and mentally get sober from the climax.

He dangles the condom from his thumb and first finger in front of him and studies it. It is filled with my wrigglers. His head shifts.

“Trash can is too far.” He muses tiredly as he settles the used condom on his stomach careful not to get a spill.

I just about muster a grunt in response.

“What time are the guys getting back?”

“Evening.”

He smiles. “How did you make that happen?”

“Way too easily.”

He moves to look at me. “Bet they didn’t need much persuading to go to the strip club one last time.”

I chuckle until his eyes connect with mine. Then humour falls away. Adrian’s eyes are the strangest kind of blue, so dark that at first glance he seems brown eyed. Up close, or when the light hits them, they have the intensity of the deep blue sea. They are the colour of underwater when I crash a wave and its weight pushes me down, surrounds and disorientates me, making me its bitch until it is ready to let me go and allow me to resurface. Right now, they give me the same feeling I have when I have been wiped out; terror, exhilaration and that feeling of being completely and overwhelmingly alive.

I can’t tear myself away from his gaze.

“I want to stay out here a little longer.” I tell him. “Do you?”

He is surprised. “I…” His voice tails off. “What?”

“Here in Belize. We could stay longer.”

“How much longer?”

I hadn’t thought of that. One week? Two? Three? How long does he want? I’m in. “How long do you want to?”

“We have prebooked flights for tomorrow, Deran. We can’t change them.”

Idiot. “Not all of us. Just you and me.”

“You and me.” He repeats as if I am speaking a language he doesn’t understand.

“I have some leftover sponsor money. I’ll spot you for a return flight to say thanks. Moss, Colby and Ox turned up to half a day of the competition to support me. You were there everyday.”

His skin has developed goose bumps suddenly, just like it did just before he came a few moments ago, when his body went extra sensitive and I rocked into him while his hand wrapped around his dick and we got him off. I skim across his textured skin.

“You don’t need to get back?” He asks.

“No.” Honestly. I don’t think I have felt more myself than I have these past few days on vacation. It’s a drug that I am not ready to part with yet. “You?”

He muses. “I’ll need to tell Tao to cover some shifts but … no. School doesn’t start for a few more weeks so I can stay.”

If happiness could be defined as a time, this moment would be it.

“What should we tell Ox, Moss and Colby?” He asks.

“I’ve figured something out.” I bend down and kiss him. Our lips connect, slightly misaligned by our positions. 

+

When I wake up the next day, I reach out in my bed to find that Adrian is gone. I assume he is on his morning jog, so I fall back asleep. He wakes me up some time later.

“Hi.” I rub my eyes to get rid of sleep.

He is standing at the foot of the bed looking down at me. “I ran into police as I ran past the the reception area. They are back on the island.” He looks anxious. “They stopped me. Joe gave them my name.”

I sit bolt upright. “What?”

“They say they want to speak to me about the credit card fraud thing.”

“Why?”

“They didn’t say. They want me to attend the police station today for an interview.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Would love to get your comments.


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